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A'^^ ; ^^ -'•-•-'• '^r -^.^^ / 

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There's a dark lantern of the spirit^ 

Which none see by bnt those nvho bear it, • 

That makes them in the dark see visions 

And hag themselves with apparitions. 

Find racks for their own minds, and vaunt 

Of their own miseiy and want. Butlkr. 






Printed by Jm. Adlard and Sooty. 
2^ Bartholomeir Close. 

Mtdikev, Oh! it's your only fine hiinioar,rir. Yonf 
true melancholy breeds year perfect fine wit, sir. I am 
melancholy myself, divers times, sir; and then do I no 
more but take pen and paper presently, and overflow 
yon half a score or a dozen of sonnets at a sitting. 

Stephen. Truly, sir, and I love snch things out of 

3faithew, Why, I pray you, sir, make nse of my 
study : it's at your service. 

Stephen. I thank yon, sir, I shall be bold, I warrant 
you. Have you a stool there, to be melancholy upon ? 

BEN JONSON ( Jlvery man in hii Hwnour. 

Ji% 9% S» I* 


Ay esica gazouiller et siffler oye, comme dit ie com- 

mnn proverbe, entre leg cygoes, plutoust que d'estre 

eDtre tant de getitils poetes et fkcon^ orateurs mat da 

tout estim^. 

Rabelais, Proh L* 5* 



NiGHTMARE Abbey, a Venerable family- 
mansion , in a highly picturesque state of 
semi-dilapidaiion, pleasantly situated on a 
strip of dry land between the sea and the 
fens, at the v^rge of the county of Lincoln, 
bad the honor to be the seat of Christopher 
Glowry, Esquire, This gentleman was natu- 
rally of an atrabilarious temperament, and 
much troubled with those phantoms of in- 



digestion which are commonly called blue 
devils. He had been deceived in an early 
friendship: he had been crossed in love; 
and had offered his hand, from pique, to a 
lady, who accepted it from interest, and who, 
in so doing, violently tore asunder the bonds 
of a tried and youthful attachment. Her 
vanity was gratified by being the mistress 
of a very extensive, if not very lively, esta- 
blishment ; but all the springs of her sym- 
pathies were frozen. Riches she possessed, 
but that which enriches them, the parti- 
cipation of affection, was wanting. All 
. that they could purchase for her became 
indifferent to her, because that which they 
could not purchase, and which wais more 
valuable than themselves, she bad, for their 
sake, thrown away. She discovered, when 
it was too late^ that she had mistaken the 
means for the end— that riches, rightly used. 


are instruments of happiness, but arte not in 
themselves happiness. In this wilful blight 
of her affections, she found them valueless 
as means : they had been the end to vjrhich 
she had immolated all her aflPections, and 
were now the only end that remained to 
her. She did not confess this to herself as 
a principle of action, but it operated through 
the medium of unconscious self-deception, 
and terminated in inveterate avarice. She 
laid on external things the blame of her 
mind's internal disorder, and thus became 
by degrees an accomplished scold. She 
often went her daily rounds through a series 
of deserted apartments, every creature in 
the house vanishing at the creak of her 
shoe, much more at the sound of her voice, 
to which the nature of things affords no 
simile; for, as far as the voice of woman, 
when attuned by gentleness and love^ 

B 2 


transcends all other sounds in harmony, so 
lar does it surpass all others in discord, 
when stretched into unnatural shrillness by 
anger and impatience. 

Mr. Glowry used to say that his house 
was no better than a spacious kennel, for 
every one in it led the life of a dog. Dis- 
appointed both in love and in friendship^ 
and looking upon human learning as vanity, 
he had come to a conclusion that there was 
but one good thing in the world, videlicet y a 
good dinner ; and this his parsimonious lady 
seldom suffered him to enjoy: but, one 
morning, like Sir Leoline in Christabel, 
** he woke and found his lady dead,'^ and 
remained a very consolate widower, with 
one small child. 

This only son and heir Mr. Glowry had 
christened Scythrop, from the name of a 
maternal ancestor, who had banged himself 



one rainy day in a fit of tiedium vitity and had 
been eulogised by a coroner's jury in the 
comprehensive phrase of /eh de se; on 
which account, Mr. Glowry held his me- 
mory in high honor, and made a punch- 
bowl of his skull. 

When Scythrop grew up, he was sent, as 
usual, to a public school, where a little 
learning was painfully beaten into him, and 
froni thence to the University, where it was 
carefully taken Out of him ; and he was sent 
home like a well-threshed ear of corn, with 
nothing in his head: havhig finished his 
education to the high satisfaction of the 
master and fellows of his college, who had, 
in testimony of their approbation, presented 
him with a silver fish-slice, on which his 
name figured at the head of a laudatory 
inscription in some semi-barbarous dialect 
of Anglo-saxonised Latin. 

B Z 


His fellow-Students, however, who drove 
tandem and random in great perfection, 
and were connoisseurs in good inns, had 
taught him to drink deep ere he departed. 
He had passed much of his time with tbes 
choice spirits, and had seen the rays of the 
midnight lamp tremble on many a length- 
ening file of empty bottles. He passed his 
vacations sometimes at Nightmare Abbey, 
sometimes in London, at the hou&e of his 
uncle, Mr. Hilary^ a very c4ieerful and 
elastic gentleman, who had married the sis- 
ter of the melancholy Mr. dowry. The 
company that frequented his house was the 
gayest of the gay. Scythrop danced with 
the ladies and drank with the gentlemen, 
and was pronounced by both a very accom- 
plished charming fellow, and an honor to 
the University. 

At the house of Mr. Hilary, Scythrop 


first saw the beautifiil Miss Emily Girouette. 
He fell in love ; which . is nothing new. 
He was favorably received ; which is no- 
thing strange. Mr. Glowry and Mr. Girou- 
ette had a meeting on the occasion, and 
qu^rr^lled about the terms .of the bargain; 
which, is neither, new nor strange. The 
lovers were torn asunder, weeping and vow- 
ing everlasting constancy; and, in three 
weeks after this tragical event, the lady was- 
led a smiling bride to the altar^ by the Ho- 
norable Mr. Lack wit; which is neither 
strange nor new. 

Scythrop received this intelligence at 
Nightmare Abbey, and was half distracted 
on the occasion. It was his first disappoint- 
menty and preyed deeply on his sensitive 
spirit. His father, to comfort him^ read 
him a Commentary on Ecclesiastes, which 
he had himself composed, and which de- 

B 4 


monstrated incontrovertibly that all is va« 
nity. He insisted particularly on the text^ 
<' One man among a thousand have I founds 
but a woman amongst all those have I not 

*• How could he expect it/' said Scy« 
throp, • ** when the whole tboosaod were 
locked up in his seraglio i His experience 
is no precedent for a free state of society 
like that in which we live." 

'^ Locked up or at large/' said Mr. 
dowry, *^ the' result is the same; th^t 
minds are always locked up, and vanity and 
interest keep the key. I speak feelingly, 

" I am sorry for k, Sir," said Scytbrop. 
'^ But how is it that their minds are locked 
up ? The fault is in their artificial educa* 
tion, which studiously models them into 
mere musical dolls, to be set out for sale in 
the great toy-shop of society." 



To be sure," said Mr. dowry, " their 
education is not so well finished as yours' 
has been : and your idea of a musical doll 
is good. I bought one myself, but it was 
confoundedly out of tune.. But, whatever 
be the cause, Scythrop, the effect is cer- 
tainly this: that one is pretty nearly a,s 
good as another, as far as any judgment can 
be formed of them before marriage. It is 
only after marriage that they shew their 
true qualities, as I know by bitter expe- 
rience. Marriage is therefore a lottery, 
and the less choice and selection a man 
bestows on his ticket the better : for, if he 
has incurred considerable pains and expence 
to obtain a lucky number, and his lucky 
number {)roves a blank, he experiences not 
a simple but a complicated disappointment; 
the loss of labor and money being super- 
added to the disappointment of drawing a 



blank, which, constituting simply and eit^ 
tirely the grievance of him who has chosei> 
his ticket at random, is, from its simplicity, 
the more endurable." This very excellent 
reasoning was thrown away upon Scythrop, 
who retired to his tower as dismal and dis- 
consolate as before. 

The tower which Scythrop inhabited 
stood at the south-eastern angle of the Ab^ 
bey; and, on the southern side, the foot of 
the tower opened on a terrace, which was 
called the garden, though nothing grew on 
it but ivy, and a few amphibious weeds. 
The south-western tower, which was ruin- 
ous and full of owls, might, with equal pro- 
priety, have been called the aviary. This 
terrace or garden, or terrace-garden, or 
garden-terrace, (the reader may name it ad 
libitum^) took in an oblique view of the open 
sea, and fronted a long tract of level sea- 



eoast, and a fine monotony of fens and 

The reader will judge from what we 
have said, that this building was a sort of 
castellated abbey ; and it will probably oc- 
cur to him to enquirci if it bad been one of 
the strong holds of the ancient church mili- 
tant. Whether this was the case, or how 
far it had been indebted to the taste of Mr. 
dowry's ancestors for any transmutations 
from its original state, are, unfortunately^ 
circumstances not within the pale of our 

The north-western tower contained the 
apartments of Mr. Glowry. The moat at 
its base, and the fens beyond, comprised 
the whole of his prospect. This moat sur- 
rounded the Abbey, and was in immediate 
contact with the walls on every side but the 



The north-eastern tower was appropri^ 
ated to the domestics, whom Mr. Glowry 
always chose by one of two criterions,— ra 
long face or a dismal name. His butler was 
Raven ; bis steward was Crow ; his valet 
was Skellet. Mr. Glowry maintained that 
the' valet was of French extraction, and 
that bis name was Squelette. His grooms 
were Mattocks and Graves. On one occa*- 
sion, being in want of a footman, he re- 
ceived a letter from a person signing him- 
self Diggory Deathshead, and lost no time 
in securing this acquisition; but, on Dig- 
gory's arrival, Mr. >Glowry was horror.struck 
by the sight of a round ruddy face, and a 
pair of laughing eyes. Beathsbead was 
always grinning,"^not a ghastly smile, but 
the grin of a comic mask ; and disturbed the 
echoes of the ball with so much unhallowed 
laughter, that Mr. Glowry gave him his 


discharge. Diggory, however, had stayed 
long enough to make conquests of ali the 
old gentleman^s maids, and left him a 
flourishing colony of young Deathsheads 
to join chorus with the owls, that had before 
been the exclusive choristers of Nightmare 

. The main body of the building was di- 
vided into rooms of state, spacious apart- 
ments for feasting, and numerous bed-rooms 
for visitors, who, however, were few, and 
far between. 

Family interests compelled Mr. Glowry 
to receive occasional visits from Mr. and 
Mrs. Hilary, who paid them from the same 
motive; and, as the lively gentleman on 
these .occasions found few conductors for 
bis exuberant gaiety, he became like a 
double-charged electric jar, which often 
exploded in some burst of outrageous mer- 



riinent, to the signal discomposure of Mr. 
Glowry's nerves. 

Another occasional visitor, much more to 
Mr. Glowry's taste, was Mr. Flosky,* a very 
lacrymose and morbid gentleman, of some 
note in the literary world, but in his own 
estimation of much more merit than n^me. 
The part of his character which recom- 
mended him to Mr, Glowry, was his. very 
fine sense of the grim and the tearfuJ. No 
one could relate a dismal story with' so many 
minutiae of supererogatory wretchedness. 
No one could calt up a raw^head and bloody^ 
bones with so many adjuncts and circum- 
stances of ghastliness. Mystery was his 
mental element. He lived in the midst of 
that visionary world in which nothing i& 

* A corruption of Fiiosky, quasi ^»Ao0-x»o(, a lover, 
or sectator, of shadows. 


but wlut is not. He dreamed with his eyes 
open, and saw ghosts dancing round him at 
noontide. He had been in his youth an 
enthusiast for liberty , and had hailed the 
dawn of the French Revolution as the pro- 
mise of a day that was to banish war and 
slavery, and every form of vice and misery, 
from the face of the earth. Because all this 
was not done, he deduced that nothing was. 
done, and from this ^deduction, according 
to his system of logic, he drew a conclusion 
that worse than nothing was done, that 
the overthrow of the feudal fortresses of 
tyranny and superstition was the greatest 
calamity that had ever; befallen mankind, 
and that their only hope now was to rake 
the rubbish together, and rebuild itwithout 
any of those loop-holes by which the light 
had originally crept ihl .To qualify himself 
for a coadjutor in this laudable task, he 


plunged into the central opacity of Kantian 
metaphysics, and lay ptrdu several yeafs in 
transcendental darkness, till the cooiinon 
daylight of common sense became into- 
lerable to his eyes. He called the suti an 
ignis fatuuSy and exhorted all who would 
listen to his friendly voice, which were 
about as many as called ^^ God save King 
Richard," to shelter themselves from its de- 
lusive radiance in the obscure haunt of Old 
Philosophy. This word Old had great 
charms for him. The good old times were 
always on his lips : meaning the days when 
polemic theology was in its prime, and 
rival prelates beat the drum ecclesiastic with 
Herculean vigour, till the one wound up 
his series of syllogisms with the very orthp- 
dox conclusion of roasting the other. 

But the dearest friend of Mr. Glowry, 
and his most welc()me guest^ was Mr. 


Toobad, the Manichaean Millenarian. The 
twelfth verse of the twelfth chapter of Re-* 
velations was always in his mouth : '^ Woe 
to the inhabiters of the earth and of the sea, 
for the devil is come among you, having 
great wrath, because he knoweth that he hath 
but a short time." He maintained that die 
•upreme dominion of the world tras, for wise 
purpeses, given over for a while to the Evil 
Pi'inciple, and that this precise period of 
time, commonly called the enlightened age, 
was the point of his plenitude of power. He 
used to add that by and by he would be cast 
down, and a high and happy order of things 
succeed 5 but he never omitted the saving 
clause, '^ Not in our time:" which last words 
* were always echoed in doleful response by 
the sympathetic Mr. dowry. 

Another and very frequent visitor was the 
Reverend Mr. Larynx, ♦the vicar of Glay- 


dyke, a village about ten miles distant ; — 
a good-natured accommodating divine, who 
was always most obligingly ready to take a 
dinner and a bed at the house of any country 
gentleman in distress for a companion. 
Nothing came amiss to him, — a game at 
billiards, at chess, at draughts, at back* 
gammon, at piquet, or at all-fours in a 
t6te-a-tete, — or any game on the cards, 
round} square,, or triangular, in a party of 
any number exceeding two. He would 
even dance among friends, rather than that 
a lady, even if she were on the wrong side 
of thirty, should sit still for want of a 
partner. For a ride, a walk, or a sail, in 
the morning, — a song after dinner, a ghost 
story after supper, — a bottle of port with 
the squire, or a cup of green tea with his 
lady, — for all oj; any of these, or for any- 


thing else that was agreeable to any one 


else, consistently with the dye of his coat, 
the Reverend Mr. Larynx was at all times 
equally ready. When at Nightmare Abbey, 
he would condole with Mr. Glowry,-— drink 
Madeira with Scythrop, — crack jokes with 
Mr. Hilary, — hand Mrs. Hilary to the 
piano, take charge of her fan and gloves, 
and turn over her music with surprising 
dexterity ,-^quote Revelations with Mr. 
Toobad,"^aud lament the good cJd times of 
feudal darkness with the transcendental Mr. 



Shortly after tbe disastrous termination of 
Scythrop's passion for Miss Emily Girouette, 
Mr^ dowry found himself^ much against his 
win, involved in a law-suit^ which com- 
pelled him to dance attendance on the High 
Court of Chancery , Scy throp was left alone 
at Nightmare Abbey. He was a burnt 
child, and dreaded the fire of female eyes. 
He wandered about the ample pile, or along 
the garden-terrace, with *' his cogitative 
faculties immersed in cogibundity of cogi- 
tation." The terrace terminated at the 
south-western tower, which, as we have 
said, was ruinous and full of owls. Here 
would Scythrop take his evening seat, on a 


fallen fragment of mossy stone, with his 
back resting against the ruined wall, — a 
thick canopy of ivy, with an gwl in it, over 
his head, — and the Sorrows of Werter in bis 
hand. He had had some taste for romance- 
reading before he went to the university, 
where, we must confess, in justice to his 
college, he was cured of the love of reading 
in all its shapes ; and the cure would have 
been radical, if disappointment in love, and 
total solitude, had not conspired to bring on 
a relapse. He began to devour romances 
and German tragedies, and, by the recom- 
mendation of Mr. Flosky, to pore over 
ponderous tomes of transcendental philoso- 
phy, which reconciled him to the labour of 
studying them by their mystical jargon and 
necromantic imagery. In the congenial so- 
litude of Nightmare Abbey, the distem- 
pered ideas of metaphysical romance and 


romantic metaphysics had ample time and 
space to germinate into a fertile harvest of 
chimaeras, which rapidty shot up into vigor- 
ous and abundant vegetation. 

He now became troubled with the passion 
for reforming the world.* He built many- 
castles in the air, and peopled them with 
secret tribunals, and bands of illuminati, 
who were always the imaginary instruments 
of his projected regeneration of the human 
species. As he intended to institute a per- 
fect republic, he invested himself with abso- 
lute sovereignty over these mystical dis- 
pensers of liberty. He slept with Horrid 
Mysteries under his pillow, and dreamed of 
venerable eleutherarchs and ghastly confe- 
derates holding midnight conventions in 
subterranean caves. He passed whole morn- 

* Sec Forsyth's Principles of Moral Science. 


ings in his study, immersed in gloomy 
reyerie, stalking about the room in his 
night«cap, which he pulled over his eyes 
like a cowl, and folding his striped calico 
dressing-gown about him like the mantle of 
a conspirator. 

** Action /*^-thus he soliloquised, — ** is 
the result of opinion, and to new-model 
opinion would be to new-model society. 
Knowledge is power. It is in the hands of 
a fe^f who employ it to mislead the many 
for their own selfish purposes of aggran- 
disemeiit and appropriation. What if it 
were in the hands of a few who should 
employ it to lead the many ? What if it 
were universal, and the multitude were 
enlightened ? No. The many must be 
always in leading-strings : but let them have 
wise and honest conductors. A few to 
think, and many to act: that is the only 


basis of perfect society. So thought the 
ancient philosophers : they had their esote- 
rical and exoterical doctrines. So thinks 
the sublime Kant, who delivers his oracles 
in language which none but the initiate can 
comprehend. Such were the views of those 
secret associations of illuminati, which were 
the terror of superstition and tyranny, and 
which, carefully selecting wisdom and genius 
from the great wilderness of society, as the 
bee selects honey from the flowers of the 
thorn and the nettle, bound all human 
excellence in a chain, which, if it had not 
been prematurely broken, would have com- 
manded opinion, and regenerated the 

Scythrop proceeded to meditate on the 
practicability of reviving a confederation of 
regenerators. To get a clear view of his 
own ideas, and to feel the pulse of the 


wisdom and genius of the age, he wrote 
and published a treatise, in which his mean- 
ings were carefully wrapt up in the monk's 
hood of transcendental technilogy, but filled 
-with hints of matter deep and dangerous, 
w^tiich he thought would set the whole 
nation in a ferment; and he awaited the 
result in awful expectation, as a miner, who 
bas fired a train, awaits the explosion of a 
rock. However, he listened and heard no- 
thing ; for the explosion, if any ensued, was 
not sufficiently loud to shake a single leaf of 
the ivy on the towers of Nightmare Abbey ; 
and some months afterwards he received a 
letter from his bookseller, informing him that 
only seven copies had been sold, and con- 
cluding with a polite request for the balance. 
Scythrop did not despair. '^ Seven co- 
pies,'' be thought, '^ have been sold. Seven 
is a mystical number, and the omaa is good. 



Let me find 4he se^en purchasers of iny 
seven copies, and they shall be the seyen 
golden candlesticks with which I will illumi- 
nate the world." 

Scythrop had a certain portion of mecha- 
nical genius, which his romantic projects 
tended to develop. He constructed models 
of cells and recesses, sliding pannels and 
secret passages, that would have baffled the 
skill of the Parisian police. He took the 
opportunity of his father's absence to 
smuggle a dumb carpenter into the Abbey, 
and between them they gave reality to one 
of these models in Scythrop's tower. Scy- 
throp foresaw that a great leader of human 
regeneration would be involved in fearful 
dilemmas, and determined, for the benefit 
of mankind in general, to adopt all possible 
precautions for thepreservacion of hibofself. 

The servants, •evea the women, had been 


tutored into silence. Profound stillness 
reigned throughout and around the Abbey, 
except when the occasional shutting of a 
door ii^ould peal in long reverberations 
through the galleries, or the heavy tread 
of the pensive butler would wake the hollow 
echoes of the hall. . Scythrop stalked about 
like the grand . inquisitor^ and the servants 
flitted past him like familiau*s« In his even* 
ing meditations on the t^race, under the 
ivy of the r^iined tower, the oiily sounds 
that came toihis ear were thcTustling of the 
wind in the ivy, — ^theplaintive voices of the 
feathered choristers, the. owls,*-^the occa- 
sional striking of the Abbey-clock, — and the 
monotonous dash of the sea on its low dnd 
level shore. In the mean* 4:\me he drank 
Madeira, and laid deep schelhes for a thb* 
rough repair of the crazy fabric of Ikiman 

Ci 2 



Mr. Glowry returned from London irith 
the loss of his law-suit. Justice was with 
him, but the law Was against him. He 
found Scy throp in a mood most sympathetic 
cally tragic^ and they vied with each other 
in enliyening their cups by lamenting the 
depravity of this degenerate 9^^ and oc- 
casionally interspersing divers grim jokes 
about graves, worms, and epitaphs. Mr. 
Glowry's friends, whotn ^'e have tnentioned 
in the first chapter, availed thiraaaselTes df 
his return to pay him ^ isimiiltaneouis visit. 
At the same time arrived Stiythrop^s friend 
and fcllow-collegian, the Honorable Mr. 
Listless. Mr. Glowry had discovered this 


&sbionable young gcotlenian ift Londoa^ 
<< stretched on the ra^k o£ a too easy chair/* 
and deroured wkh a gloomy and misan* 
tbropieal nil euro, and had preiaed him so 
earnestly to take the benefit of the pure 
country air^ at Nightmare Abbey, that Mr. 
Listless, finding it would give him more 
trouble to refuse than to comply, sii«tmoaed 
hi», FjceiH^ vsdot^ Fatout,, and told him he 
was going to Lincolnshire. Ob this simple 
hint, Fatout went to work, and the iijape* 
rials wese packed,, ^nd tjbe post-cbariQt was 
at ibfi door, without t^e Honorable Mr, 
Listless having said or thought anotlaesc 
syllaUe o» the subject. 

Mr^ and Mrs* Hilary brought wi^at thea» 
an orpt^n niece, a daughter ot Mr. Qlowi^ 
ry's yc^ngest sister,. wJ^o had made a ruA-^ 
away love-match with an Irish officer. The 
lady^s fortune disappeared in th/s first year :: 




lore, by a natural consequence^ disappeared 
in the second: the Irishman himself, by a 
still moie natural consequcgnce, disappeared 
in the third; Mr. Glowry bad allowed his^ 
sister an annuity, and she bad lived in re^ 
tirement with her only daughter, whom, al» 
her death, which had recently happened, she 
commended to the care of Mrs. Hilary. 

Miiss Marionetta Celestina O^Carroll was 
a very bloomhig and accomplished young 
lady. Being a compound of the AHegro 
Vivaee of the O'Garrolfe, and of the An^ 
dante Dohroso of the dowries, she exhi-. 
bited in her owncbaracter all the diversities 
pf an April sky. Her hair was light-brown : 
her eyes ha2se^, and sparkling with a mild 
but fluctuating light : her features regular ^ 
her lips full, and of equal size : and her 
person surpassingly graceful. She was a 
proficient in miusic. Her conversation va% 


sprightly, but always on. subjects light io 
tb^ir nature and limited in their interest : 
for moral sympathies, in any general sense, 
had no place in her mind. She had some , 
coquetry, and more caprice, liking and dis- 
liking almost in the same moment; pursuing 
an object with earnestness, while it seemed 
unattainable, and rejecting it when in her 
power, as not worth the trouble of pos* 

Whether she was touched with a pen» 
chant for her cousin Scythrop, or was 
midrely curious to see what effect the tender 
passion would have on so outri a person; 
she had not been three days in the Abbey, 
before she threw out all the lures of her 
beauty and accomplishments to make a 
prize of his heart. Scythrop proved an 
easy conquest. The image of Miss Emily 
Girouette was already sufficiently dimmed by 

c 4 

/ \ 


the power of philosophy and the exercise of 
reason: for to these influences^ or to anj 
influence but the true one^ are usually 
ascribed the mental cures performed by tfae 
great physician Time* Scythrop's rotnantie 
dreams had indeed given him many pure 
anticipated cognitions of combttiations of 
beauty and intelligence, which, he had sonoe 
misgivings, were not exactly realised in his 
cousin Marionetta; but, in spite of tibese 
misgivings, he soon became distimctedly ia 
love ; which when the young lady cleaiiy 
perceived^ she altered her tactics, and as* 
sumed as much coldness and reserve as she 
bad before shewn ardent and ingenuous at* 
tachment. Scytfarop was confounded at the 
sutkien change; but,, instead of falling at her 
feet and requesting an explanation, he re- 
treated to his tower, muffled himself in his 
uight-cap,, seated himself in the president's 


ehair of bid iipagi»9ry socrQt tribuftal, sum- 
mofiod Msurion^ta witb aH t^rrybfe fenoa^ 
Uties^ frigbl;ened ber coil of ber ivits, dis- 
dosed bim9elf> and clasped the beautiful 
peaiteot to hia bosom. 

WhUe he was aetk^ this reverie,— in the 
moment in which the awful president of the 
s^Q^ret triUuial was throwing back his cowl 
and hk mantle, and discovering himself to 
the lovely culprit as her adoring and mag- 
iiMiiiiioQ:^ loTer^ the door of the study 
opened, and the real Marionetta appeared. 

The motives which bad led her to the . 
tower were a little penitence , a little c.on- 
eern, a little afikction, and a little fear as to 
what the sydden secession of Scythrop, oc« 
qasioned by her sudden chatige of manner, 
might portend. . She bad tapped several 
times unheard, and of course unanswered ; 
and at tength, timidly and cautipuply open- 

c 5 


ing the door, she discovered him standing^ 
up before a black velvet chair, which wa» 
mounted on an old oak table, in the act of 
throwing open his striped calico dressing- 
gown, and flinging away his night-cap,. 
— which is what the French call an imposing 

Each stood a few moments fixed in their 
respective places, — the lady in astonish»> 
ment, and the gentleman in confusiom 
Marionetta was the first to break silence. 
" For heaven's sake," said she, ** my desff 
Scythrop, what is the matter?'* 

** For heaven's sake, indeed," said Scy- 
throp, springing from the table ; " for your 
sake, Marionetta, and you are my heaven, 
— distraction is the matter. I adore you, 
Marionetta, and your cruelty drives me 
mad." He threw himself at her knees, de- 
voured her hand with kisses, and breathed 


a thousand vows in the most passionate Ian- 
g^uage of romance. 

Marionetta listened a long time in silence, 
till her lover had exhausted his eloquence 
and paused for a reply. She then, said, 
with a very arch look, ^^ I prithee deliver 
thyself like a man of this world.'' The 
levity of this quotation, and of the manner 
in whicfarit was delivered, jarred so discord- 
antly on the high- wrought enthusiasm of 
the romantic itmanioratOy that he sprang 
upon bis feet, and beat his forehead with 
bis clenched fists. The young lady was 
terrified ; and, deeming it expedient to sooth 
him, took one of his hands in hers, placed 
the other hand on his shoulder, looked up 
in his face with a winning seriousness, and 
said, in the tenderest possible tone, <^ What 
would you have, Scythrop ?" 

Scythrop was in heaven again. ^^ What 

c 6 


tifoutd I hare ? What but you, Marionetta^? 
You> for the companion of my studies, the 
partner of my thoughts, tht auxihary of my 
great designs for the emancipation of man^ 

'M am afraid I Aould be but a poor 
auxiliary, Scy tbrop. What woold you have 
me do?'*' 

'^ Do as Rosalia does with Carlos, diyine 
Mariohetta. Let us each open ^ vein inf the 
other's arm, mix our blood in a bowl, and 
drink it sis a sactament of lore. Then we 
shall se^ yisions of transcendental iUomiiia- 
tion, and soar on the wings of ideas into 
the space of purfe intelligence.'' 

Marionetta could not reply ; she had not 
so strong a stomaeh as Rosalia, and turned 
sick at the * proposition. She disengaged 
herself suddenly from Scythrop^ sprang 
through the door of the tower, and fled with 


precipitatioti along tbe corridors. Scythrop 
pursued her^ crying^ '^ Stop, stop, Marioiu 
ettSLy-^my life, my love !" aod was gaining 
rapidly on her flight, when, at an ilUomened 
corner^ where two corridors ended in an 
angle, at the head of a staircase, he came into 
sudden and violent contact with Mr. Too* 
bad, and they both plained together to the 
footsof tbe stairs, like two billiard-balls into 
one poijiLet. This gave the young lady 
time to escape, and enclose herself in her 
chamber; while Mr. Toobad, rising sbwiy, 
and rubbing his knees and shoulders, said, 
'< You see, my dear Scythrop, in this little 
incident, one of tbe innumerable proofs of 
the temporary supremacy of the devil ; for 
vrhsLt but a systematic design and concur- 
rent contrivance of evil could have made 
the angles of time and place coincide in our 


unfortunate persons at the head of this ac* 
cursed staircase ?" 

<^ Nothing else, certainly/' said Scythrop: 
^* you are perfectly in the right, Mr, Too- 
bad* Evil and mischief, and misery^ and 
confusion, and vanity, and vexation of 
spirit, and death, and disease, and assassi- 
nation, and war, and poverty, and pesti- 
lence, and famine, and avarice, and selfish- 
ness, and rancour, and jealousy, and spleen, 
and malevolence, and the disappointments 
of philanthropy, and the faithlessness of 
friendship, and the crosses of love,-— all prove 
the accuracy of your views, and the truth 
of your system ; and it is not impossible, 
that the infernal interruption of this fall 
down stairs may throw a colour of evil on 
the whole of my future existence." 

" My dear boy," said Mr. Toobad, ** you 
have a fine eye for consequences." 


So saying, he embraced Scythrop, who 
retired, with a disconsolate step, to dress 
for dinner ; while Mr. Toobad stalked across 
the hall, repeating, '* Woe to the inhabi- 
ters of the earth, and of the sea, for. the 
devil is come among you, having great 




The flight of Marionetta, and the pursuit 
of Sc3rthrop, had been witnessed by Mr. 
Glowry, who, in consequence, narrowly 
observed his son and his niece in the even-- 
ing; and, concluding from their manner, 
that there was a better understanding be- 
tween them than he Avished to see, he de- 
termined on obtaining, the next morning, 
from Scythrop, a full and satisfactory ex- 
planation. He, therefore, shortly after 
breakfast, entered Scythrop's tower, with a 
very grave face, and said, without ceremony 
or preface, " So, sir, you are in love with 
your cousin." 

Scythrop, with as little hesitation, an- 
swered, ** Yes, sin" 


<^ That is candid, at least: and she is ia 
love with you.'* 

" I wish she were, sir." 

^^ Yoa knew she is, sir/' 

^* Indted^ sir, I do not.*' 

^' But you hope idie it/' 

'< I do, from my souU" 

^< Now that is very provoking, Scythrop, 
and very disappointing: I coold not have 
supposed that you, Scythrop Glowfy, of 
Nighbnaife Abbey, would have been infa- 
tuated with soeh a daneing, laughing, sing- 
ing, thoughtless, careless, merry-hearted 
things as Martonetta, — in aH respects ^ 
revene of you and me. It is very dis- 
apfMMnting) Scythrop. And, do yoxa know, 
sir, thai Maifionetta has no fortune V^ 

<^ It is the more reason, sir, that ker hus- 
band should have one." 

^< The more reason fit>r her; but not for 


you. My wife had no fortune, and I had 
no consolation in my calamity. And do 
you reflect, sir, what aa enormous slice this 
law-suit has cut out of our family estate ? 
we who u$ed to be the greatest landed 
proprietors in Liiicolnshire." 

" To be sure, sir, we had more acres of 
fen than any man on this coast : but what 
are fens to love? What are dykes and wind- 
mills to Marionetta ?" 

'^ And what, sir, is lore to a windmill ? 
Not grist, I am certain : besides, sir, I have 
made a choice for you. I have made a 
choice for you, Scythrop. Beauty, genius, 
accomplishments, and a great fortune into 
the bargain. Such a lovely, serious, crea- 
ture, in a fine state of high dissatisfaction 
with the worki, and every thing in it. Such 
a delightful surprise I had prepared for you. 
Sir, I have pledged my honor to the con- 


tract — the hoiior of the dowries of Night* 
mare Abbey : and now, sir, what is to be 
done ?" 

'^ Indeed, sir, I cannot say.^ I claiin, on 
this occasion, that<liberty of action which is 
the co-natal prerogative of every. rational 

^^Liberty of action, sir? there is no such 
thing as liberty of action. We are all slaves 
and pufipets of a blind and unpathetic 

. ** Very true, sir: but liberty of aqtion^ 
between individuals, consists in th^ir being 
differently influenced, . or modlBed, by the 
Same universal necessity; so that tiie results 
are unconsentaneous, and their respective 
necessitated volitions clash and fly off in a 
tangent." ' 

" Your logic is good, sir: but you are 
aware too^ that one individual may be a 


medium, of adhibiting to another a mode or 
form of necessity, which may have more <» 
less influence in the production of consen- 
taneity ; and, therefore, sir^ if you do not 
comply with; my \nahes in tUs instance 
(you bavv had your owj:^ way in every thing 
else), I shall be under the necessity c^dis^ 
inheriting yon, thougb I shall do it with 
tears in my eyes»" Having said, these 
words, he vanished suddenly, in the dread 
of Scy throp's logic. 

Mr. dowry immediateLy sought Mrs. 
Hilary, and conununtcaited ta her his views 
of the cose in point. Mrs. Hihtry, at die 
phrase is, was as fond of Marionetta as if 
she had been her own child : but^— there is 
always a but on these occasions— she could 
do nothing for her in the way of fortune, as 
she bad two hopeful sons, who were £nish* 
ing their education at Brazen«*no!ie, and who 

KlGmiAK£ ABBftY. 45 

would not like to encounter any dhninuikw 
of their prospects when tbej should be 
brought out of the house of mental bondage 
~i.e. the univerBity,-«-to the land flowing 
with mlk and honey — i. e. the west end of 

Mrs. Hilary hinted to Marionetta^ that 
propriety, and delicacy, and decorooi, and 
dignity, &c. &c. kc.^ would require them 
to leare the Abbey immediately. Marion- 
etta listened in silent ^submission, for she 
Inew that her inheritance was passive obe- 
dience ; but, whenScythrop,whohadwatched 
the opportunity of Mrs. Hilary's departure, 
entered, and, without speaking a word, 
threw himself at her feet in a paroxysm of 
grief, the young lady^ in equal silence and 

rfia-ITilt. rrB 

* We an not masters of the whole Tocabulaiy. 
See my Norel by any liierarjf kidy. 


sorrow^ threw ber arms round his neck, and 
burst into tears. A very tender scene en- 
sued, which the sympathetic susceptibilities 
of the soft-hearted reader can more accu- 
rately imagine than we can delineate. But 
when Marionetta hinted that she. was to 
leave the Abbey immediately, Scythrop 
snatched from its repository his ancestor's 
skull, filled it with Madeira, and, presenting 
himself before Mr. Glowry, threatened to 
drink ofF the contents if Mr. Glowry did not 
immediately promise that Marionetta should 
not be taken from the Abbey without her 
9wn consent. Mr. Glowry, who took the 
Madeira to be some deadly brewage, gave 
the required promise in dismal panic. 
Scy tbrcrp returned to Marionetta with a joy- 
All heartj and drank the Madeira by the 
Mr. dowry, during his residence in Lon- 


don, had come to an agreement with his 
friend Mr. Toobad, 4;hat a match between 
Scjthrop and Mr. Toobad^S' daughter would 
be a irery desirable occurrence. She was 
finishing her education in a German con- 
vent, but Mr. Toobad described her as being 
fully impressed with the truth of his Ahri- 
mannic* philosophy, and being altogether 

* Ahri manes, in (lie Persian mytliology, is the evil 
power, the prince of tlie kingdom of darkness. He 
is the. rival of Oromazes, the prince of4be kingdom of 
light These two powers have divided and equal 
dominion. Sometimes one oT the two lias a tempo- 
rary supremacy. — According to Mr. 'Toobad, the 
present period would bo the reign of Ahrimanes. 
Lord Byron seems to be of the same opinion, by the 
use be has made of Ahrimanes in ** Manfred ;*' where 
the great Alastor, or Kaxo^ ^enfj^vf, of Persia, is hailed 
king of the world by the Nemesis of Greece, in 
concert with three of the Scandinavian* Yalkyrae, 
under the name of the Destinies; the astrological 
spirits of the alchemists of the middle agesT; an elo- 


as gloomy and antitbalian a young lady as 
Mr. dowry himsdf could desire for tbe 
future mistress of Nightmare Abbey. She 
bad a great fortune in her own right, which 
was not, as we have seen, without its weight 
in inducing Mr. dowry to set his heart 
upon her as his daughter-inJaw that was to 
be. He was, therefore, very much disturbed 
by Scythrop's untoward attachment to 
Marionetta. He condoled on the occasion 
with Mr. Toobad ; who said, that he had 
been too long accustomed to the intermed- 
dluig of tbe devil in all his affairs, to be 
astonished at this new trace of his cloven 

mental witch, transplanted from Denmark to tbe 
Alps; and a cborus of Dr. Faustns'sdeviiSy who come 
in tb« last act for a sool. It is difficult to conceive 
where this heterogeueoas mytholo|pcal company 
eoald have originally met, except at a UtkUd^hUif 
like the six kings in '' Candide.** 



claw ; but that he hoped to outwit hhn yet, 
for be wa» sure th^e could be no comparbon 
between his daugbtet and Marionetta in tbe 
mind of lAy one who had a proper percep- 
tion of the facty that, the world being a 
great theatre of evil, 3eriousness and so- 
lemnity are the characteristics of wisdom, 
and laughter and merriment make a human 
being no better than a baboon. Mr. dowry 
comforted himself with this view of the 
i5ubject, and urged Mr. Toobad to expedite 
his daughter's return from Germany. Mr. 
Toobad said, he was in daily expectation 
of her arrival in London, and M'ould setoff 
immediately to meet her, that he might lose 
no time in bringing her to Nightmare 
Abbey. *' Then," he added, '* we shall see 
whether Thalia or Melpomene — whether 
the Allegra or the Penserosa — ^^vill carry off 


the symbol of victory." — " There can be 
no doubt," said Mr. Glowry, " which way 
the scale will incline, or Scythrop is no true 
scion of the venerable stem of the GIow- 



Marionetta felt secure of Scythrop's 
hearty and, Dotwithstanding the difficulties 
that surrounded her, she could not debar 
herself from the pleasure of tormenting her 
lorer, whom she kept in a perpetual fever. 
Sometimes she would meet him with the 
most unqualified affection ; sometimes with 
the most chilling indifference ; rousing him 
to anger by artificial coldness, — softening 
him to love by eloquent tenderness, — or in- 
fiaming him to jealousy by coquetting with 
the Honorable Mr. Listless, who seemed, 
under her magical influence, to burst into 
sudden life, like the bud of the e^enii 
primrose. Sometimes she would sit by il 
piano, and listen with becoming attentii 
s 2 


to Scy throp's pathetic remonstrances ; but, in 
the most impassioned part of his oratory, she 
would convert all his ideas into a chaos, by 
striking up some Rondo Allegro, and saying 
*^ Is it not pretty ?" Scythtop would begin 
to storm; and she would answer him with 

** Zitti, zitti, piano, piaoo, 
Non facciamo confusione/' 

or some simtbir /acezia, till be would start 
away from her, and encIoBC himself in his 
tower, in an agony of agitation, vowing to 
renounce her, and her whole sex, for ever; 
and returning to her presence at the sum- 
mons of the billet, which she never failed to 
send with many expressions of penitence 
and promises of amendment. ScythropV 
schemes for regenerating the world, and 
detecting bis seven golden candlesticks, went 
on very slowly in this fever of his spirit. 


Tbioga proceeded in this traiD for several 
days; and Mr, Glowry began to be uneasj 
at receivang no intelligence from Mr. Too- 
bad ; when, one evening, the latter rushed 
into the library, where the family and the 
viskors were assembled, vociferating, ^^ The 
devil is come among you, having great 
wrath !" He then drew Mr. Glowry aside 
into another apartment, and, after remaining 
some time together, they re-entered the U- 
brary with faces of great dismay,^ but did 
not condescend to explain to any one the 
cause of their discomfiture. 

The next morning, early^ Mr. Toobad 
departed. Mr. Glowry sighed and groaned 
all day, and said not a word to any one. 
Scythrop had quarrelled, as usual, with 
Marionetta, and was enclosed in his tower, 
in a fit of morbid sensibiUty. Marionetta was 
comforting herself at the piano, with sing* 



ing the airs of Nina pazza per ainore ; and 
the Honorable Mr. Listless was listening to 
the harmony, as he lay supine on the sofa, 
with a book in his hand, into which he 
peeped at intervals. The Reverend Mr. 
Larynx approached the sofa, and proposed 
a game at billiards. ^ 


Billiards ! Really I should be very happy; 
but, in my present exhausted state, the ex* 
ertion is too much for ttie. I do not know 
when I have been equal to such an effort, 
(He rang the bell for his valet. Fatout en- 
tered, J Fatout ! when did I play at billiards 


De fourteen December de last year. Mon- 
sieur. (Fatout bowed and retired.) 



So it was. Seven months ago. You see, 
Mr. Larynx; you see, sir. My nerves, 
Miss O' Carroll, my nerves are shattered. 
I have been advised to try Bath. Some 
of the faculty recommend Cheltenham. I 
think of trying both, as the seasons don't 
clash. The season, you know, Mr. Larynx 
— the season, Miss O' Carroll — the season is 
every thing. 


And health is something. N^est-ce paSy 
Mr. Larynx ? 


Most assuredly. Miss O'Carroll. For, 
however reasoners may dispute about the 
summum bonuniy none of them will deny 
that a very good dinner is a very good 
thing : and what is a good dinner without a 

D 4 


good appetite ? and whence is a good appe- 
tite but from good health ? Now, Chelten- 
ham^ Mn Listless^ is &mou3 for good 


The best piece <)f logic I eveir heard, Mr. 
Larymc; the very best, I aesure yom. I 
have thought very seriously of Cheltenlwrtn: 
very seri<Hasly and profoundly. I thought 
of it — let me see — when did I think of it i 
(He rang agairiy and Fataut re-appeared.) 
Fatout ! when did I think of goii^ to Chel- 
tenham, and did not go I 


De JttiUet tweiity«Ton, de last sumcaer. 
Mo Qsiear . (Faiout reiired. ) 


So it was. An inyaluaWe fellow that, Mr. 
Larynx — inyaluable. Miss O'CartroU. 

II ifti 1 1 * « r W^^^^m-^^m^^ 3n»r '^*MMBM^^>3 



So I should judge, indeed. He seems to 
serve you as a wdking memory, and to be a 
living chronicle, not of your actions only, 
but of your thoughts. 


An excellent d^nition of the fellow, Mi39 
O^CarroU,— excellent, upon my honour, 
Hal ha ! he ! Heigho ! Laughter is plea* 
sant^ but the exertion is too much for me* 

A parcel was brought in for Mr. Listless ; 
it had been sent express. Fatout was sum^ 
mcmed to unpack it ; and it proved to coo* 
tain a new novel, and a new poem, both of 
which had long been anxiously expected by 
the whole host of fashionable readers ^ and 
the last number of a popular Review^ of 
which the editor and his co*adjutors were ia 

2> 5 


high favour at court, and enjoyed ample pen- 
sions* for their services to church and state. 
As Fatout left the room, Mr. Flosky entered, 
and curiously inspected the literary arrivals. 


(Turning over the leaves,) " Devilman, 
a novel." Hm. Hatred — ^revenge — ^misan- 
thropy — and quotations from the Bible. 
Hm. This is the morbid anatomy of black 
bile.—" Paul Jones, a poem." Hm. I see 
how it is. Paul Jones, an amiable enthu- 
siast — disappointed in his affections — turns 
pirate from ennui and magnanimity— <;tits 
various masculine throats, wins various fe- 
minine hearts — is hanged at the yard-arm ! 
The catastrophe is very awkward, and very 
unpoetical. — ** The Downing-Street He- 

* "Pension. Pay given to -a slave of state for 
treason to Lis QoxmXr^J^—jQhniOfCi Dictionary^ 


view," Hm. First article— An Ode to the 
Red Book, by Roderick Sackbut, Esquire. 
Hm. His own poem reviewed by himself. 

(Mr. Flosky proceeded in silence to look 
over the other articles of the Review ; Marion^^ 
etta inspected the novel, and Mr. Listless 
the poem. ) 


For a young man of fashion and family, 
Mr. Listless, you seem to be of a very stu- 
dious turn. 


Studious! You are pleased to be facetious, 
Mr. Larynx. I hope you do not suspect 
me of being studious. I have finished my 
education. But there are some fashionable 
books that one must read, because they are 
ingredients of the talk of the day : other- 


wise^ I am no fonder of books than I dare- 
say you yourself are, Mr. Larynx. 


Why, sir, I cannot say that I am indeed 
particularly food of books; yet neither can 
I say that I never do read. A tale or a poem^ 
now and then, to a circle of ladies over their 
work,, is no very heterodox employment of 
the vocal energy. And I must say, for my- 
self, that few men have a more Job-like 
endurance of the eternally-recurring ques* 
tions and answers about pins, needles, 
threads, patterns, hems, and stitches, that 
interweave themselves, on these occasioas^ 
with the crisis of an adventure, and heighten 
the distress of a tragedy. 


And very often make the distress when the 
author has omitted it» 

■ I ■«-^»^^Bj 

ijT'-' i^ai^Km 



I shall try your patience some rainy 
morning, Mr. Larynx : and Mr. Listless shall 
recommend us the very newest new book, 
that every body reads. 


Yoa Bbail receive it, Miss O'Carrcdl, with 
all tbe gloss <^ novelty; fresh a3 a ripe 
green-gage in all the downiness of its Uoom. 
A mail-coach copy from Edinburgh, for- 
warded express from London. 


This rage for novelty is the bane of lite- 
rature. Except my works, and those of my 
particular friends, nothing is good that is not 
as old as Jeremy Taylor : and, entre nouSf 
the best parts of my friends* books were 
either written or suggested by myself. 

1 l*i 'L'^ 




Sir, I reverence you. But I must say, 
modern books are very consolatory and con- 
genial to my feelings. There is, as it were, 
a delightful north-east wind, an intellectual 
blight, breathing through them ; a delicious 
misanthropy and discontent, that demon- 
strates the nullity of virtue and energy, and 
puts me in good humour with myself and 
my sofa. 


Very true, sir. Modern literature is a 
north-east wind — a blight of the human 
soul. I take credit to myself for having 
helped to make it so. The way to produce 
fine fruit is to blight the flower. You call 
this a paradox. Marry, so be it. Ponder 

rtw -• r 11 



The conversation was interrupted by the 
re« appearance of Mr. Toobad, covered with 
mud. , He just shewed himself at the door, 
muttered " The devil is come among you!'* 
and vanished. The road which connected 
Nightmare Abbey with the civilised world 
was artificially raised above the level of the 
fens, and ran through them in a straight 
line as far as the eye could reach, with a 
ditch on each side, of which the water was 
rendered invisible by the aquatic vegetation 
that covered the surface. Into one of these 
ditches the sudden action of a shy horse, 
which took fright at a windmill, had preci- 
pitated the travelling chariot of Mr. Toobad, 
who had been reduced to the necessity of 
scrambling, in dismal plight, through the 
window. One of the wheels was found to 
be broken; and Mr. Toobad, leaving the 
postillion to get the chariot as well as he 


could to Clajrdyke, for the pturpoies of 
cleaning and repairing, bad walked isack to 
Nightmare Abbey, followed by his servant 
with the ifflperial, and repeating all the way 
his (avoisrite quotation from the Revelations. 



Mr. ToosAD had found bis daughter, Ce- 
Jinda, m Loodoo ; and, after the first joy of 
meeting was ov^i told her be had a husband 
ready £or her. The young lady replied^ very 
gra^ely^ that she should take the liberty to 
choose for herself. Mr. Toobad said, be 
saw the devil was determined to interfere 
with aJl his projects; but he was resolved 
on luB own part, not to have on his consci- 
^ice the crime of passive obedience and 
noD-resistanoe to Lucifer, and therefore she 
should marry the person be had chosen for 
her. Miss Toobad implied, iris posiment^ 
she assuredly would not« ^< Celinda, Ce- 
linda/* said Mr. Toobad^ << you most 


assuredly shall/' — " Have I not a fortuoe in 
my own right, sir ?'* said Celinda, ** The 
more is the pity," said Mr. Toobad : ** but 
I can find means, miss ; I can find means. 
There are more ways than one of breaking- 
in obstinate girls.'* They parted for the 
night with the expression of opposite reso« 
lutions; and, in the morning, the young 
lady's chamber was found empty, and, what 
was become of her, Mr. Toobad had no clue 
to conjecture. He continued to investigate 
town and country in search of her, visiting 
and re-visiting Nightmare Abbey at inter- 
vals, to consult with his friend Mr. Glowry. 
Mr. Glowry agreed with Mr. Toobad that 
this was a very flagrant instance of filial 
disobedience and rebellion ; and Mr. Toobad 
declared, that, when he discovered the fugi- 
tive, she should find that ^' the devil was 
come unto her, having great wrath.'* 


In the evening, the whole party met, as 
usual, in theUbrary. Marionetta sat at the 
harp; the Honorable Mr. Listless sat by 
her, and turned over her music, though the 
exertion was aknost too much for him* The 
Reverend Mr* Larynx relieved him occa- 
sionally in this delightful labour. Scythrop, 
tormentied by the demon Jealousy, sat in the 
corner, biting his lips and fingers* Marion- 
etta looked at him every now and then with 
a smile of most provoking good humour, 
which he pretended not to see, and which 
only the more exasperated his troubled 
spirit. He took down a volume of Dante, 
and pretended to be deeply interested in the 
Purgatorio, though he knew not a word he 
was reading, as Marionetta was well aware, 
who, tripping across the room, peeped into 
his book, and said to him — ^* I see you. are 
in the middle of Purgatory." — " I am in 



tlie middle of beU/' said Scythrop^ furi^ 
onsly. " Are you ?" said she ; '* tiien cone 
across the room, and I irill iing you the 
finale of Don Giovanm«'' 

^^ Let me alone/' said Scytfarop* Ma- 
rionetta looked at him with a deprecating 
smile, and said, ^' You unjust, cross crea- 
ture, you." — ^^ Let roe alone," said Scy- 
tfarop, but much legs emphatically than at 
first, and by no means wishing to be taJbcn 
at his word. Marionetta left htm ioKne- 
• diately, and, returning to the harp, «aid, 
ju«t loud enough for Scythrop to hear-*- 
^^ Did you ever read Dante, Mr. Listless? 
Scythrop is reading Dante, and is just ooir 
in Purgatory." — •* And I," said the Honor- 
able Mr. Listless, ** am not reading Daate, 
and ani just iiow in Paradise;" bowii^ to 



You are very gallant, Mr. Listless, and I 
dare say you are very fotid of reading 


I don't know how it is, but Dante never 
came in my way till lately. I never had 
him in my collection, and^ if I had had him, 
I should not have read him. But I find he 
is growing fasluonable, and I am afraid I 
must read him some wet morning. 


No : read him some evening, by all means. 
Were you ever in love, Mr. Listless ? 


I assure yta. Miss O'CanroB, nevcf y— till I 
came to Nightmare AUiey. I dare say it is 
very pleasant ; but it seems to give so much 


trouble, that I fear the exertion would be 
too much for me. 


Shall I teach you a compendious method 
of courtship, that ivill give you no trouble 


You will confer on me an inexpressible 
obligation. I am all impatience to learn it. 


Sit with your back to the lady, and read 
Dante, only be sure to begin in tlie middle, 
and turn over three or four pages at once — 
backwards as well as forwards ; and she will 
immediately perceive that you are despe- 
rately in love with her-— desperately. 

(The Honorable Mr. Listless sitting between 
Scythrop and Marionetta, andjlxing all his 
attention on the beautiful speakev^ did no4 



observe Scythrop^ who was doing as she de^ 


You are pleased to be facetious. Miss 
0*Carroll. The lady would infallibly con- 
clude that I was the greatest brute in town. 


Far from it. She would say, perhaps, 

some people have odd methods of shewirg 
their affection. 


But, I should think, with submission-^ 


(Joining them from another part ojihe room. ) 
Did I not hear Mr. Listless observe, that 
Dante is becoming fashionable ? 


I did hazard a remark to that effect, Mr. 
Flosky, though I speak on such subjects 


whh a consciousness of my own notfaingness^ 
in the presence of so great a man' as Mr. 
Flosky. I know not what is the colour of 
Dante^s devils, but, as he is certainly be- 
coming fashionable^ I conclude they are 
blue ; icfr the blue devils, as it secnvs to tae^ 
Mr. Flosky, constitute the fundamental fea- 
ture of fashionable literature, 


The blue are, indeed, the staple commo- 
dity; but, as they will not always be com- 
manded, the black, red, and grey, may be 
admitted as substitutes. Tea, late dinners, 
and the French Revolution, have played the 
devil, Mr. Listless, and brought the dfivil 
into play. 

ifR« TooB*A»,. (tktrimg ^.) 
Havi4f^ great wraChb 


This is no play upon words, but the sober 
sadness of veritable fact. 


Tea, late xlinners, and the French Revo- 
lution. I cannot exactly see the connexion 
of ideas. 

MR. FL08KY. 

I should be sorry if you could : I pity the 
man who can see the connexion of his own 
ideas. Still more do I pity hini, the con- 
nexion of whose ideas any other person can 
see. Sir, the great evil is, that there is too 
much common-place light in our moral aiid 
political literature, and light is a great enemy 
to mystery, and mystery is a^ great friend to 
enthusiasm* Now the enthusiasm for ab- 
stract truth is an exceedingly fine thing, as ' 
long as the truth, which is the object of the 


enthusiasm, is so completely abstract as to 
be altogether out of the reach of the human 
facultiee; and, in that sense, I have myself 
an enthusiasm for truth, but in no others 
for the pleasure of metaphysical investiga- 
tion lies in the means, not in the end ; -and^ 
if the end could be found, the pleasure of 
the means would cease. The mind, to be 
kept in health, must be kept in exercise. 
The proper exercise of the mind is elaborate 
reasoning. Analytical reasoning is a base 
and mechanical process, which takes to 
pieces and examines, bit by bit, the rude 
material of knowledge ; and extracts there* 
from a few hard and obstinate things, called 
facts, every thing in the shape of which I 
cordially hate. But synthetical reasoning, 
setting up as its goal some unattainable ab- 
straction, like an imaginary quantity in al- 
gebra, and commencing its course with 


taking for granted some two assertions 
nrhich cannot be proved, from the union of 
these two assumed truths produces a third 
assumption, and so on in infinite series, to 
the unspeakable benefit of the human in- 
tellect. The beauty of this process is, 
that at' every step it strikes out into two 
branches, in a compound ratio of ramifica- 
tion ; so that you are perfectly sure of 
losing your way, and keeping your mind 
in perfect health by the perpetual exercise 
of aii interminable quest: and, for these 
reasons, I have christened my eldest son 
Emanuel Kant Flosky. 


Nothing can be more luminous. 


And what has all that to do wkb thoitef 
and the blue devils ? 

£ 2 



Not mucb^ I should think, with Dante, but 
a great deal with the blue devils. 


It is very certain, and muGh to be rejoiced 
at, that our literature is faag-^ridden. Tea 
has shattered our nerves ; late dinners make 
us slaves of indigestion; the French Bevo- 
lution has made us shrink from the name of 
philosophy, and has destroyed, in tba more 
refined part of the community, (of which 
number I am onie,) s|ll. enthusi^^m for poli- 
tical liberty. That piirrt. of the readdng 
public which shuns the solid food of reason 
for the light diet of fiction, requires a per- 
petual adhibition of sauce piquante to the 
palate of its depraved imagination. It lived 
Hpon ghosts, goblins, and skeletons, (i and 
my friend, Mr. Sackbut, served up a few of 


the best,) till eren «btt de^il himself^ though 
magnified to the mise of Mount Atbos, be* 
came too base, common, and popular, for its 
surfeited appetite. The ghosts have there- 
fore been. laid, and the devil has been cast 
into outer darkness, and now the delight of 
our spirits is to dwell on all the vices and 
blackest passions of our nature, triclced out 
in a masquerade dress of heroism and dis* 
appointed benevolence: the whole secret 
of which lies in forming combinations thjat 
contradict all our experience, and affixing 
the purple shred of some particular virtue 
to that precise character, in which. we 
^boald be most certain not to find it in the 
liritig world ; aDd making this siligle viiftue 
not onlj redeem all the real and manifest 
vices of the character, hut make them nc^ 
tually pass for necessary adjuncts, and ior 


dispensable accompaniments and charac- 
teristics of the said virtue. 


That isy because the devil is come among 
us^ and finds it for his interest to destroy 
all our perceptions of the distinctions of 
right and wrong'. 


I do not precisely enter into your mean- 
ing, Mr. Blosky, and should be glad if you 
ivould make it a little more plain to me. 


One or two examples will do it^ Mis^ 
O' Carroll. If I were to take all the meao 
and sordid qualities of a little Jew broker, 
and tack on to them, as with a nail, the 
quality of extreme benevolence, I should 
have a very deqent hero for a modern novel, 
and should contribute my quota to the 


fashionable method of administeriog a mass 
of vice^ under a thin and unnatural covering 
of virtue^ like a spider wrapt in a bit of 
gold leaf, and administered as a wholesome 
pill. On the salne principle, if a man 
knocks me down, and takes my purse and 
watch by main force, I turn him to ac- 
count, and set him forth in a tragedy as a 
dashing young fellow, disinherited for his 
romantic generosity, and full of a most 
amiable hatred of the world in general and 
his own country in particular, and of a 
most enlightened and chivalrous affection 
for himself: then, with the addition of a wild 
girl to fall in love with him, and a series of 
adventures in which they break all the Ten 
Commandments in succession^ (always, you 
will observe, for some sublime motive, which 
must be carefully analysed in its progress,) 
I have as amiable a pair of tragic characters- 

£ 4 


as ever issued from that new region of the 
belles lettres which I bare called the Mor- 
bid Anatoniy of Black Bile, and which is 
greatly ta be admired and rejoiced at^ as 
affording a fine scope for the exhibition of 
mental power. — 


Which is about as well employed as the 
]M>wer of a hot-house would be in forcing 
up a nettle to the size of an elm. If we go 
on in this way, we shall have a new art of 
poett-y , of which one of the first rules will 
be : To remember to forget that there are 
any such things as sunshine and music in 
the world. 



It seems to' be the case with us at pre- 
sent, or we should not have interrupted 
Miss O'CarrolFs music with this exceed- 
ingly dry conversation. 


I should be most happy if Miss O'CarrolI 
would remind us that there are yet both 
inusiG and sunshine — 


In the voice and the smile of beauty. 
May I entreat the favor dir^C fuming cevcr 
the pages of ynusie.) ^ 

All were silent, and Marionetta sung : — 

Wby are thj looks so blank, grey iKar? 

Why are thy looks so blue? 

Tbou seem*st more pale and lank, grey friar, 

Than thocr wast nsed to do : — 

Say, what has made thee rnef 

Th| form was plomp^ and a light did shin^ 
In thy round and ruby face, 
Which shewed an outward visible sign 
Of an inward spiritual grace : — 
Say, what has changed thy easel 

£ 4f 


Yet will I tell thee trae, grey firitr, 

I very well can see, 

That, if thy looks are blue, grey firiar^ 

Tis all for love of me,— 

Tis all for love of me. 

But breathe not thy vows to me, grey friar. 
Oh ! breathe them not, I pray ; 
For ill beseems in a reverend friar. 
The love of a mortal may ; 
And I needs mast say thee nay. 

But, could'st tboa think my heart to move 
With that pale. and silent scowl? 
Know, he who would win a maiden's love, 
Whether clad in cap or cowl, 
. Mast be more of a lark than an owh 

Scythrop immediately replaced Dante on 
the shelf^ and joined the circle round the 
beautiful singer. Marionetta gave him a 
smile of approbation that fully restored bis 


complacency, and they continued on the 
best possible terms during the remainder of 
the evening. The Honorable Mr. Listless 
turned over the leaves with double alacrity, 
saying, ^^ You are severe upon invalids. 
Miss O'Carroll: to escape your satire, I 
must try to be sprightly, though the exer- 
tion is too miich for me.'' 




A NSW visitor arrived at the Abbey, in the 
person of Mr. Asterias^ the ichthyologist. 
This gentleman had passed bis life in seek- 
ing the living wonders of the deep through 
the four quarters of the world : he had a 
cabinet of stuffed and dried fishes, of shells^ 
sea-weedsy corals, and madrepores, that was 
the admiration and envy of the Royal 8o« 
ciety* He had penetrated into the watery 
den of the Sepia Octopus, disturbed the 
conjugal happiness of that turtle-dove of the 
ocean, and come off victorious in a* san- 
guinary conflict. He had been becalmed 
in the tropical seas, and had watched, in 
eager expectation, though unhappily always 


in vaini to see the colossal polypus rite from 
the water, and entwine its enormous urms 
round the masts and the rigging. He 
maintained the origin of all things from 
water, and insisted that the polypodes were 
the first of animated things, and that, from 
their round bodies and many-shooting arms, 
the Hindoos had taken their gods^ the most 
ancient of deities. But the chief object of 
his ambition, the end and aim of his re- 
searches, was to discover a Triton and a 
Mermaid, the existence of which he most 
potently and implicitly believed, and was 
prepared to demonstrate, a priori, a posU^ 
rhrij a/ortioriy synthetically and analyti- 
cally^ syllogistically and inductively, by 
arguments deduced both from acknowledged 
facts and plausible hypotheses» A report 
that a mermaid had been seen ** sleeking^ 
her soft alluring locks^' on the sea-coast of 


Liiicolnshire, had brought him in great haste 
from London, to pay a long-promised and 
often-postponed visit to his old acquaint- 
ance, Mr. Glowry. 

Mr. Asterias was accompanied by his son, 
to whom he had given the name of Aqua- 
rius, — flattering himself that he would, in 
the process of time, become a constellation 
among the stars of ichthyological science. 
What charitable female had lent him the 
mould in which this son was cast, no one 
pretended to know ; and, as he never drop- 
ped the most <listant allusion to Aquarius's 
mother, some of the wags of London main- 
tained that he had received the favours of a 
mermaid, and that the scientific perquisi- 
tions which kept him always prowling about 
the sea-shore, were directed by the less 
philosophical motive of regaining his lost 


Mr. Asterias perlustrated the sea-coast for 
several . days, and reaped disappointinenti 
but not despair. One niglit, shortly after 
his arrival, he was sitting in one of the 
windows of the library, looking towards the 
sea, when his attention was attracted by a 
figure which was moving near the edge of 
the surf, and which was dimly visible through 
the moonless summer-*night. Its motions 
were irregular, like those of a person in a 
state of indecision. It had extremely long 
hair,, which floated in the wind. Whatever 
else it might be, it certainly was Hot a fish- 
erman. It might be a lady ; but it was 
neither Mrs. Hilary nor Miss 0*Carroll, for 
they were both in the library. It might be 
one of the female servants ; but it had too 
much grace, and too striking an air of ha- 
bitual .liberty, to render it probable. Be- 
sides, what should one of the female servants 


b€ doing there iit thb boar, moving. to ^nd 
fro, as it seemed , without any visible p«r« 
pose ? It could scarcely be n strasger ; Iwt 
Claydyke, the nearest viUago, was teti piijel 
distant ; and what female would coiite ten 
miks across tbe fens, for no purpose bul^ to 
hover over the surf under tbe walk id N%bfe« 
mare Abbey ? Might it not be a mermaid^ 
It was possibly a meimaid. ic wks proba* 
bly a mermaid. It wa» very probaUy a 
mermaid. Nay, what else could it be but a 
mermaid ? It certainly wan a mennittd. 
Mr» Asterias stole out of the library on tip« 
toe, with his finger on his lips, haviiqf 
beckoned Aquarius to follow him. 

The rest of the party was iii great surprise 
at Mr. Asterias's movement, and some of 
them approached the window to see if the 
locality would tend to elucidate tbe mystery. " 
Presenlly they saw bin and Aquarius cau«- 


tiously Stealing along on the other side of 
the moat, but they saw nothing more ; and 
Mr* Asterias returning^ told them^ with 
accents of great disappointment, that he had 
had a glimpse of a mermaid, but she had 
eladed him in the darkness, and was gone,, 
be presumed, to sup with some enamoured 
Triton, in a submarine grotto. 

*^ But, seriously, Mr. Asterias,** said the 
Honorable Mr. Lisdess, ^^ do you positively 
bdkeve there are such things as mermaids?'* 


Most assuredly ; and Tritons too. 


What ! things that are half human and 
half gsh ? 


Precisely. They are the Oran^ufangs 
of the sea. But I am persuaded that there 


are also complete sea men, differing in no 
respect from us, but that they are stupid, 
and covered with scales : for, though our 
organization seems to exclude us essentially 
from the class of amphibious animals, yet 
anatomists xvell know that the foramen ovale 
may remain open in an adult, and that 
respiration is, in that case, not necessary to 
life : and how can it be otherwise explained 
that the Indian divers, employed in the pearl 
fishery, pass whole hours under the water ? 
and that the famous Swedish gardener, of 
Troningholm, lived a day and a half under 
the ice, without being drowned ? A Nereid, 
or mermaid, was taken in the year 1403, in 
a Dutch lake, and was in every respect like 
a French woman, except that she did pot 
speak. Towards the end of the seventeenth 
century, an English ship, a hundred and 
fifty leagues firom land, in the Greenland 


seas, discovered a flotilla of sixty or seventy 
little skiffs, in each of which was a Triton, 
or sea man : at the approach of the English 
vessel, the whole of them, seized with si- 
multaneous fear, disappeared, skiffs and all, 
under the water, as if they had been a 
human variety of the Nautilus. The illus- 
trious Don Feijoo has preserved an authentic 
and well-attested story of a young Spaniard, 
named Francis de la Vega, who, bathing 
with some of his friends in June 1 674, sud- 
denly dived under the sea, and rose no 
more. His friends thought him drowned: 
they were plebeians and pious Catholics; 
but a philosopher might very legitimately 
have drawn the same conclusion. 


Nothing <?ould be more logical. 



Fire years afterwards, some fishermen, 
near Cadiz, found in their nets a Triton, or 
sea tti^n : they spoke to him in several lan- 


They were very learned fishermen. 


They had the gift of toagues by especial 
favour of their brother fishermaDi Saiot 


Is Saint Peter the tutelar saint of Cadi2 } 

(None of the covipany could answer this 
question, and Mr. Astevli as proceeded J 

They spoke td him in several languages, 
but he wag as mute as a fisb^ Tbey handed 
him over to some holy friars, who exorcised 


him; hut the devU was nute too. After 
some dajs, be pronounced the name Lier« 
ganes.. A monk todc him to that Tillage. 
His 9U>d)er and brothers recogQiaed and 
embraced him ; but he was as ins^iaible to 
their caresses as any other fish would have 
been. He had some scales on his body, 
which dropped ofFby degrees ; but his skin 
was as hard and rough as shagreen. He 
stayed at home nine years, without re- 
covering his speech or his reason: he 
then disappeared again ; and one of bis 
old acquaintance, some years after, saw him 
pop his head out of the water near the 
coast of the Asturias, l^hese facts were 
certified by his brothers, and by Don Gsia* 
pardo de la RU^a Aguero, Knight of Saint 
James, who lived near Lierganes, and often 
had the pleasure of ouf Tritan's company to 
dinner.— Pliny mentions an embassy of the 


OlyBsiponians to Tiberius, to give hiai 
intelligence of a Triton which had been 
heard playing on its shell in a certain cave ; 
with several other authenticated facts on^e 
subject of Tritons and Nereids. 


You astonish me. I have been much on 
the sea-shore, in the season, but I do not 
think I ever saw a mermaid. (He rangy 
and summoned Fatout, who made his appear^ 
ance^ half-seas-over, J Fatout! did I ever 
see a mermaid ? 


Mermaid ! mer-r-m-m-aid ! Ah ! merry 
maid! Oui, monsieur! Yes, Sir, very 
many. I vish dere vas von or two here in 
de kitchen, — ^mafoi! Dey be all as naelao- 
cholic as so many tombstone. 




I meaii^ Fatout^ an odd kind of human 


De odd fish ! Ah, oui ! I understand de 
phrase: ye have seen nothing else since ve 
left town, — ma foi ! 


You seem to have a cup too much, Sir. 


Non, Monsieur : de cup too little. De 
fen be very unwholesome, and I drink*a- 
de ponch vid Raven de butler, to keep 
de bad air. 



Fatout! I insist on your being sober. 


Oui, Monsieur ; I vil be as sober as de 
r^v^rendissime pere Jean. I should be ver 


glad of de meiTy maid ; but de butler be de 
odd iisb^ and he swim in de bowl de poncb. 
Ah! ah ! I do recollect de leetle-a song : — 
^^ About fair maids, and about fair maids, 
and about my merry maids all." (FatotU 
reeled out y singing,) 


I am overwhelmed : I never saw the rascal 
in such a condition before. But will you 
allow me, Mr. Asterias^ to enquire into the 
cui bono of all the pains and expense you 
have incurred to discover a mermaid ? The 
cm bmiOj Sir, is the question I always take 
the liberty to ask, when I see any one taking 
much trouble for any object. I am myself 
3, sort of Signor Pococurante, and should like 
to know if there be any thing better or plea- 
santer than the state of existing and doing 
nothing ? 




I have made many voyages, Mr. Listless, 
to remote and barren shores: I have tra- 
velled over desert and inhospitable lands : I 
have defied danger — I have endured fatigue 
— I have submitted to privation. In the 
midst of these I have experienced pleasures 
which I would not at any time have ex- 
changed for that of existing and doing 
nothing. I have known many evils, but I 
have never known the worst of all, which, 
as it seems to me, are those which are com- 
prehended in the inexhaustible varieties of 
ennui: spleen, chagrin, vapours, blue de. 
vils, time-killing, discontent, misanthropy, 
and all their interminable train of fretful- 
ness, querulousness, suspicions, jealousies, 
and fears: which have alike infected society, 
and the literature of society; and which 



would make an Arctic ocean of the humail 
mind, if the more humane pursuits of phi- 
losophy and science did not keep alive the 
better feelings and more valuable energies 
of our nature. 


You are pleased to be severe upon our 
fashionable belles lettres. 


Surely not without reason^ when pirates, 
highwaymen, and other varieties of the 
extensive genus Marauder, are the only 
beau idial of the active, as splenetic and 
railing misanthropy is of the speculative, 
energy. A gloomy brow and a tragical 
voice seem to liave been, of late, the cha- 
racteristics of fashionable manners ; and a 
morbid, withering, deadly, antisocial sirocco, 
loaded with moral and political despair. 


breathes through all the groves and valleys 
of the modern Parnassus : while science 
moves on in the calm dignity of its course, 
affording to youth delights equally pure and 
vivid, — to maturity, calm and grateful oc- 
cupation, — to old age, the most' pleasing 
recollections and inexhaustible materials of 
agreeable and salutary reflection ; and, while 
its votary enjoys the disinterested pleasure 
of enlarging the intellect and increasing the 
comforts of society, he is himself indepen- 
dent of the caprices of human intercourse 
and the accidents of human fortune. Nature 
is his great and inexhaustible treasure. His 
days are always too short for his enjoyment: 
ennui is a stranger to his door. At peace 
with the world and with his own mind, he 
suffice? to himself, makes all around him 
happy^ and the close of his pleasing and 

F 2 


beneficial existence is the evening of a 
beautiful day.* 


Really, I should like very well to lead 
such a life myself, but the exertion would 
be too much for me. Besides, . I have been 
at college. I contrive to get through my 
day by sinking the morning in bed, and 
killing the eVening in company, dressing 
and dining in the intermediate space, and 
stopping the chinks and crevices of the few 
vacant moments that remain with a little 
easy reading* ' And that amiable discontent 
and antisociality, which you reprobate in 
our present parlour-window literature, I 
find, I do assure you, a very fine mental 

* Sec Denys Montfort: Histoire Naturelle des 
MoUusqiies ; Yues Genoraks, p. 37, 38. 


tonic^ which reconciles me to my favorite 
pursuit of doing nothing, by shewing me 
that nobody is worth doing any thing for. 


But is there not in such compositions a 
kind of unconscious self-detection, which 
seems to carry their own antidote with them? 
For, surely, no one who cordially and truly 
either hates or despises the world will pub- 
lish a volume every three months to say so. 


There is a secret in all this, which I will 
elucidate with a dusky remark. Accord- 
ing to Berkeley, the esst of things is percipi. 
They exist as they are perceived. But, 
leaving for the present, as far as relates to 
the material world, the materialists, bylo- 
ists^ and antibyloists, to settle this point, 
among them, which is indeed. 


A stifotle question raised among 

Those out o' their wits, anU those i' the wrong: 

fot* only we transcendentalists are in the 
right: we may very safely assert, that the 
esse of happiness is percipi. It exists as it 
is perceived. ^^ It is the mind that maketh 
well or ill." The elements of pleasure and 
pain are every where. The degree of hap- 
piness that any circumstances or objects can 
confer on us, depends on the mental dispo- 
sition with which we approach them. If 
you consider what is meant by the common 
phrases, a happy disposition and a dis- 
contented temper^ you will perceive that 
the truth for which I am contending is uni- 
versally admitted. 

(Mr. Flosky suddenly stopped : he found 
himself unintentionally trespassing 
within the limits ofconimon sense. J^ 



It is very true : a happy disposition finds 
materials of enjoyment every where. In 
the city, or the country — in society, or in 
solitude — in the theatre, or the forest — in 
the hum of the multitude, or in the silence 
of the mountains, are alike materials of 
reflection and elements of pleasure. It is 
one mode of pleasure to listen to the music 
of ** Don Giovanni," in a theatre glitter- 
ing with light, and crowded with elegance 
and beauty : it is another to glide at sunset 
over the bosom of a lonely lake, where no 
sound disturbs the silence but the motion 
of the boat through the waters. A happy 
disposition derives pleasure from both, a 
discontented temper from neither, but is 
always busy in detecting deficiencies, and 
feeding dissatisfaction with comparisons. 


>- — 


The one gathers all the flowers, the other 
all the nettles, in its path. The one has 
the faculty of enjoying every thing, the 
other of enjoying nothing. The one real- 
ises all the pleasure of the present good } 
the other converts it into pain, by pining 
after something better, which is only better 
because it is not present, and which, if it 
were present, would not be enjoyed. These 
morbid spirits are in life what professed 
critics are in literature : they see nothing 
but faults, because they are predetermined 
to shut their eyes to beauties. The critic 
does his utmost to blight genius in its in- 
fancy: that which rises in spite of him he 
will not see; and then he complains of the 


decline of literature. In like manner, these 
cankers of society complain of human na« 
ture and society, when they have wilfully 
debarred themselves from all the good they 


CDBtain^ and done their utmost to blight 
their ovva happiness and that of all around 
them. Misanthropy is sometimes the pro- 
duct of disappointed benevolence; but it is 
more frequently the offspring of overween- 
ing and mortified vanity, quarrelling with 
the world for not being better treated than 
it deserves. 

scYTHRop (to Marionetta). 

These remarks are rather uncharitable. 
There is great good in human nature^ but 
it is at present ill-conditioned. Ardent 
spirits cannot but be dissatisfied with things 
as they are; and, according to their views 
of the probabilities of amelioration, they 
will rush into the extremes of either hope 
or despair, — of which the first is enthusi- 
asm, and the second misanthropy; but their 
sources, in this case, are the same, as the 

J 4 



Severn and the Wye run in different direc- 
tions^ and both rise in Plinlimmon. 


" And there is salmon in both/* for the 
resemblance is about as close as that be* 
tween Macedon and Monmouth. 



Marionetta observed, the next day, a re- 
markable perturbation in Scythrop, for 
which she could not imagine any probable 
cause. She was willing to believe, at first, 
that it had some transient and trifling 
somxe, and would pass off in a day or two; 
but, contrary to this expectation, it daily 
increased. She was well aware that Scy- 
throp had a strong tendency to the love of 
mystery, for its own sake; that is to say, 
he would employ mystery to serve a pur- 
pose, but would first choose his purpose by 
its capability of mystery. He seemed now 
to have more mystery on his hands than 
the laws of the system allowed, and to wear 

F 6 


his coat of darkness with an air of great 
discomfort. All her little p]ayful arts lost 
by degrees much of their power either to 
irritate or to soothe, and the first percep- 
tion of her diminished influence produced 
in her an immediate depression of spirits, 
and a consequentsadness of demeanour, that 
rendered her very interesting to Mr. Glow- 
ry; who, duly considering the improbability 
of accomplishing his wishes with respect to 
Miss Toobad, (which improbability natu- 
rally increased in the diurnal ratio of that 
y6ung lady's absence,) began to reconcile 
himself by degrees to the idea of Marion« 
etta bei:ig bis daughter. 

Marionetta made many ineffectual at- 
tempts to extract from Scythrop the secret 
of his mystery ; and, in despair of drawing 
it from himself, began to form hopes that 
she might find a clue to it from Mr. Flosky, 


^ho was Scythrop's dearest friend, and was 
more frequently than any other person' 
admitted to his solitary tower. Mr. Flosky, 
however^ had ceased to be visible in a morn- 
ing. He was engaged in the composition 
of a /dismal ballad; and, Marionetta^s un- 
easiness overcoming her scruples of deco- 
rum, she determined to seek him in the 
apartment which he had chosen for his 
study. She tapped at the dopr, and, at the 
sound " Come in,'' entered the apartment. 
It was noon, and the sun was shining in full 
splendour, much to the annoyance of Mr. 
Flosky, who had obviated the inconvenience 
by closing the shutters, and drawing the 
window curtains. He was sitting at his 
table by. the light of a solitary candle, with 
a pen in one hand, and a mufEneer in the 
other, with which he occasionally sprinkled 
salt on the wick, to make it bum blue. He 

•fc»*%."*.t*- •• • T * '^■i m 


sate with ** his eye in a fine frenzy rolling,^ 
and turned his inspired gaze on Marion^ 
etta as if she had been the ghastly ladie of 
a magical vision ; then placed his hand 
before his ej'^es, with an appearance of ma- 
nifest pain — shook his head—withdrew his 
hand — rubbed his eyes, like a waking man — 
and said, in a tone of ruefulness most jere- 
mitaylorically pathetic, " To what am I to 
attribute this very unexpected pleasure, my 
dear Miss O'CarroU?'* 


I must apologise for intruding on you, 
Mr. Flosky ; but the interest which I — ^you 
— take in my cousin Scythrop— 


Pardon me, Miss O'CarrolI : I do not take 
any interest in any person or thing on the 
face of the earth , which sentiment^ if you 


analyse it, you will find to be the quintes- 
sence of the most refined philanthropy. 


I will take it for granted that it is so, Mr, 
Flosky: I am not conversant with meta- 
physical subtleties, but — 


Subtleties! my dear Miss O'Carroll. I 


am sorry to find you participating in the 
vulgar error of th6 reading public ^ to whom 
an unusual collocation of words, involving 
a juxtaposition of antiperistatical ideas, im- 
mediately suggests the notion of hyperoxy- 
sophistical paradoxology. 


Indeed, Mr. Flosky, it suggests no such 
notion to me. I have sought you for the 
purpose of obtaining information* 

>■* _: ifc." ij 


MR. FLOSKY (shaking his head). 
No one ever sought me for such a purpose- 


I think, Mr. Flosky — that is, I bdieye — 
that is, I fancy — that is, I imagine — 


The T8T6(TT/, t|ie id est, the cioe, the c^est 
i dire, the that is, my dear Miss O' Carroll, 
is not applicable in this case, — if you will 
permit me to take the liberty of saying so. 
Think is not synonimous with believe — 
for belief, in many most important parti- 
culars, results from the total absence, the 
absolute negation of thought, and is thereby 
the sane and orthodox condition of mind ; 
and thought and belief are both essentially 
different from fancy, and fancy, again, is 
distinct from imagination. This distinction 


between fkncy and imagination is one of 
the most abstruse and important points of 
metaphysics. I have written seven hundred 
pages of promise to elucidate it, which pro* 
mlse I shall keep as faithfully as the bank 
will its promise to pay. 


I assure you, Mr. Flosky, I care no more 
about metaphysics than I do about the 
bank ; and, if you will condescend to talk to 
a simple girl in intelligible terms— 


Say not condescend ! Know you not that 
you talk to the most humble of men, to one 
who has buckled on the armour of sanctity, 
and clothed himself with humility as with a 
garment i 


My cousin, Scythrop, has of late had an 

^-^1 fc ^M 


air of mystery about him, which gives me 
great uneasiness. 


That is strange. Nothing is so becoming 
to a man as an air of mystery. Mystery is 
the very key-stone of all that is beautiful in 
poetry, all that is sacred in faith, and all 
that is recondite in transcendental psycho- 
logy. I am writing a ballad, which is all 
mystery: it is ^^ such stuff as dreams are 
made of," and is, indeed, stuff made of a 
dream : for, last night I fell asleep, as usual, 
over my book, and had a vision of pure 
reason. I composed five hundred lines in 
my sleep ; so that as I had a dream of a 
ballad, I am now officiating as my own 
Peter- Quince, and making a ballad of my 
dream, and it shall be called Bottom's 
Dream, because it has no bottom. 



I see, Mr. Flosky, you think my intrusion 
unseasonable, and are inclined to punish it, 
by talking nonsense to me. (Mr^ Flosky 
gave a start at the word tumsensey which 
almost overturned the table,) I assure you, I 
would not have intruded if I had not been 
very much interested in the question I wish 
to ask you. — (Mr. Flosky listened in sullen 
dignity.) — My cousin Scythrop seems to 
have some secret preying on his mind. — 
(Mr. Flosky was silent.) — He seems very 
unhappy — Mr. Flosky. — Perhaps you are 
acquainted with the cause. — (Mr. Flosky 
was still silent.) — ^I only wish to know — Mr. 
Flosky — if it is anything — that could be 
remedied by anything — that any one — 
of whom 1 know anything — could do. 

MR. FLOSKY (after a pcusc). 
There are various ways of getting at 


secrets. The most approved methods, as 
recommended both theoretically and practi- 
cally in philosophical novels, are eaves« 
dropping at key.holes, picking the locks 
of chests and desks, peeping into letters, 
steaming wafers, and insinuating hot wire 
under seaHng wax : none of which methods 
I hold it lawful to practise. 


Surely, Mr. Flosky, you cannot suspect 
m& of wishing to adopt or encourage such 
base and contemptible arts. 


Yet are they recommended, and with 
well-strung reasons, by writers of gravity 
and note, as simple and easy methods of 
studying character, and gratifying that 


laudable curiosity which aims at the know- 
ledge of man, 



I am as ignorant of this morality which 
you do not approve, as of the metaphysics 
which you do: I should be glad to know, by 
your means, what is the matter with my 
cousin : i do not like to see him unhappy, 
and I suppose there is some reason for it. 



Now I should rather suppose there is no 
reason for it. It is the fashion to be un- 
happy. To have a reason for being so 
would be exceedingly common-place: to 
be so without any is the province of genius: 
the art of being miserable, for misery's sake, 
has been brought to great perfection in our 
days; and the ancient Odyssey, which held 
forth a shining example of the endurance 



of real misfortune, will give place to a mo- 
dern one, setting out a more instructive 
picture of querulous impatience under ima- 
ginary evils. 


Will you oblige me, Mr. Flosky , by giving 
me a plain answer to a plain question? 


It is impossible, my dear Miss O' Carroll. 
I never gave a plain answer to a question 
in my life* 


Do you, or do you not, know what is the 
matter with my cousin? 


To say that I do not know, would be to 
say that I am ignorant of something: and 
God forbid, that a trancendental metaphy- 
sician, who has pure anticipated cognitions 


of every thing, and carries the whole sci- 
ence of geometry in bis head without ever 
having looked into Euclid , should fall into 
so empirical an error as to declare himself 
ignorant of any thing : to say that I do 
know, would be to pretend to positive and 
circumstantial knowledge touching pre- 
sent matter of fact, which, when you con- 
sider the nature of evidence, and the vari- 
ous lights in which the same thing may be 
seen — 


1 see, Mr. Flosky, that either you have 
no information, or are determined not to 
impart it; and I begjrour pardon for having 
given you this unnecessary trouble. 


My dear Miss O'Carroll, it would have 
given me great pleasure to have said any 


thing that would have giveii you pleasure; 
but, if any person living could have it to 
say, that they had obtained any information 
on any subject from Ferdinando Flosky, my 
transcendental reputation would be ruined 
for ever. 



ScYTHRop grew every day more reserved, 
mysterious^ and distrait; and gradually 
lengthened the duration of his diurnal se- 
clusions in bis tower. Marionetta thought 
she perceived in all this very manifest 
symptoms of a warm love cooling. 

It was seldom that she found herself alone 
with him in the morning, and, on these oc» 
casions, if she was silent, in the hope of his 
speaking first, not a syllable would he utter : 
if she spoke to him indirectly, lie assented 
monosyllabically : if she questioned him^ 
his answers were brief, oonfitndned, and 
evasive. Still, though her spirits were de» 
pressed, her pbiyfalness bad not so totally 


forsaken her, but that it illuminated, at in- 
tervals, the gloom of Nightmare Abbey; 
and, if, on any occasion, she obseryed in 
Scythrop tokens of unextinguished or re- 
turning passion, her love of tormenting her 
lover immediately got the better both of 
her grief and her sympathy, though not of 
her curiosity, which Scythrop seemed de- 
termined not to satisfy. This playfulness, 
however, was in a great measure artificial, 
and usually vanished with the irritable 
Strephon, to whose annoyance it had 
been exerted. The Genius Loci, the 
iutela of Nightmare Abbey, the spirit of 
black melancholy, began to set his seal on 
her pallescent countenance. Scythrop per* 
ceived the change, found his tender sym- 
pathies awakened, and did his utmost to 
comfort the afflicted damsel, assuring her 
that his seeming inattention had only pro- 


ceeded from his being involved in a pro- 
found meditation on a very hopeful scheme 
for the regeneration of human society. 
Marionetta called him ungrateful, cruel^ 
cold-heartedy and accompanied her re- 
proaches with many sobs and tears; poor 
Scythrop growing every moment more soft 
and submissive, — till, at length, he threw 
himself at her feet, and declared, that no 
competition of beauty however dazzling, 
genius, however transcendent, talents how* 
ever cultivated, or philosophy however 
enHghtened, should ever make him re- 
nounce his divine Marionetta. 

" Competition!*' thought Marionetta, and 
suddenly, with an air of the most freezing 
indifference, she said, ** You are perfectly 
at liberty, sir, to do as you please: I beg 
you will follow your own plans, without any 
reference to me." 

G 2 


Scythrop was confoundted. What was 
become of all her passion and her tears ? 
Still kneeling, he kissed her hand with rue- 
ful timidity, and said, in most pathetic ac- 
cents, " Do you not love me, Marionetta?" 

** No,*' said Marionetta, with a look of 
cold composure: " No." Scythrop still 
looked up incredulously. ** No, I tell you.** 

*^ Oh! very well, madam," said Scy- 
throp, rising, " if that is the case, there 
are those in the world — ^^ 


" To be sure there are, sir;— and do yon 
suppose I do not see through your designs, 
you ungenerous monster?" 

"My designs^ Marionetta!" 

" Yes, your designs, Scythrbp. You have 
come hfere to cast me off, and artfully con* 
trive that it ahould appear to be my doing, 
and not youm, thinking to qyiet yout tender 
conscience with this pitiful stratagem. But 


do not sqppoM tli^t yo« are of 80 much 
ciHisoquepQO to mo. Do not suppose iu 
Yoa are of Qo Qonsequenco to me at all. 
Noae at ajl. Therefore^ leavo me. I re« 
nouQce yoa. I^eave mo. Why do yoa 
Botloaye mo?'* 

Scytbrop endeavoured to remonstrate, 
but without success. Slie reiterated her 
injunctions to him to leave her, till, in the 
simpKcity of his spirit, ho was preparing to 
comply. When he had nearly reached the 
door, Marionetta said, << Farewell.'* Scy- 
tbrop looked back. " Farewell, Scytbrop,"' 
she repeated, ** yoa will never see me 

<« Nevei see you a^ain^ Marion^taF' 
*^ I shaU go froni bev^e to-mcMrrow, per- 
haps to-day;, and, before we meet again, 
one of us will be married, and we might as 
weB be deod^ you know, Scytbrop.'* 



The sudden change of her voice in the 
kst few words, and the burst of tears that 
accompanied them, acted like electricity 
on the tender-hearted youth, and in another 
instant a complete reconciliation was ao 
complished without the intervention of 

There are, indeed, some learned casuists, 
who maintain that love has no language, 
and that all the misunderstandings and dis- 
sensions of lovers arise from the fatal habit 
of employing words on a subject to which 
word& are inapplicable; that love, beginning 
with looks, that is to say, with the physiog- 
nomical expression of congenial mental dis- 
positions, tends, through a regular gradation 
of signg and synibols of affection, to that 
consummation which is most devoutly to be 
wislied; and that it neither is necessary that 
there should be, nor probable that there 


would be, a single word spoken from jfirst to 
]&st between two sympathetic spirits, were 
it not that the arbitrary institutions of so- 
ciety hare raised, at every step of this 
very simple process, so many complicated 
impediments and barriers in the shape of 
settlements and ceremonies, parents and 
guardians, lawyers, jew-»brokers, and par- 
sons ; whence many an adventuroiis knight 
(who, in order to obtain th^ conquest of the 
Hesperian fruit, is obliged to fight his way 
through all these monsters,) is either repulsed 
at the onsiet or vanquished before the at- 
chievement of his enterprise: and such a 
quantity of unnatural talking is rendered 
inevitably necessary through all the stages 
of the progression, that the tender and 
volatile spirit of love often takes flight on 
the pinions of some of the fntia 'j^rspoevrx, or 

G 4 


winged wards, which are presied into hU 
•eryice in despite of bimaelf. 

At this conjuncture Mr. Glowry entered^ 
and, sitting down near tbem, said, << I see 
how it is; aud, as we are all aore to be 
miseraUe, do what we may, there is no 
need of taking pains to make one another 
more so; therefore, with God^9 Uessing 
and mine, there^* — joiniog their hands as he 

Scjthrop was not exactly prepared for 
this decisire step : hut be could only stam-> 
mer out, •* Really, sir, you are too good;'* 
and Mr. Glowry departed to bring Mr» 
Hilary to ratify the act» 

Now, whaterer truth there may be in the 
theory of love and language, of which we 
have so recently spoken, certain it is, that 
during Mr. dowry's absence, which lasted 



balf an hour, not a single word was said by 
either Scythrop or Marionetta. 

Mr. dowry returned with Mr. Hilary, 
who was delighted at the prospect of so 
advants^eotks an establishment for his or* 
pban niece, of whom he considered himself 
in some manner the guardian^ and nothing 
remained, as Mr. dowry observed^ but to 
fix the day. 

Marionetta blushed, and was silent. Scy* 
tfarop was also silent for a time, and at length 
hesitatingly said, ** My dear sir, your good* 
ne^ overpowers me ; but reaiUy you are so 

Now, this remark, if the young lady bad 
made it, would, whether she thought it or 
not — for sincerity is a thing of no account 
on these occasions, nor indeed on any other^ 
according to Mr. Flosky^^this remark^ if 
the young lady had made it^ wouid have 



been perfectly comme il/aut: but, being 
made by the young gentleman, it was taute 
autre chose, and was, indeed, in the eyes of 
bis mistress, a most heinous and irremissible 
offence. Marionetta was angry, very angry, 
but she concealed her anger, and said, 
calmly and coldly, *' Certainly, you are 
much too precipitate, Mr. dowry. I as- 
sure you, sir, I have by no means made up 
my mind; and, indeed, as far as I know it, 
it inclines the other way: but it will be 
quite time enough to think of these matter 
seven years hence.'' Before surprise per- 
mitted reply, the young lady had locked 
herself up in tier own apartment. 

•* Why, Scythrop," isaid Mr. Glowry, 
elongating his face exceedingly, " the devil 
is come among us, sure enough, as Mr. 
Toobad observes; I thought you and Ma- 


rionetta were both af li mind/' 



^ *' So we are, I believe, sir," said Scy- 
throp, gloomily, and stalked away to his 

** Mr. Glowry," said Mr. Hilary, " I do 
not very well understand all this." 

** \^hims," brother Hilary, said Mr, 
dowry ; " some little foolish love quarrel, 
nothing more. Whims, freaks, April show- 
ers. They will be blown over by to* 


" If not," said Mr. Hilary, ^* these April 
showers have made us April fools." 

" Ah!" said. Mr. dowry, ** you are a 
happy man, and in all your afflictions you 
can console yourself with a joke, let it be 
ever so bad, provided you crack it yourself. 
1 should be very happy to laugh with you, 
if it would give you any satisfaction ; but, 
really, at present, my heart is so sad, that I 
find it impossible to levy a contribution on. 
my muscles." 



On the erening on whieb Mr. Asterias had 
caught a glimpse of a female figure on the 
sea-shore, which he bad translated into the 
risual sign of hi» interior cognition of a 
mermaid, Scythrop, retiring to his tower^ 
found his study pre^oceupied« A stranger, 
muffled in a cloak, was sitting at his table, 
Scythrop paused in surprise. The stranger 
rose at his entrance, and looked at him in- 
tently a few minutes, in silence. The eyetl 
of the stranger alone were visible. All the 
rest of the figure was muffled and mantled 
in the folds of a black oloak> which was 
raised^ by the right hand^ to the level of the 
eyes. This scrutiny being completed, the 

■•^* i^fcfcOjii^r** ^^^^ ^ ' * **' " . '^'^in 

_... ...J 


Stranger, dropping die cloak, said, <^ I see, 
bj your physiognomy, that you may be 
trusted;"' and revealed to the astonished 
Scythrop a female form and countenance 
of dazzling grace and beauty, with long 
flowing hair of raven blackness, and large 
black eyes of almost oppressive brilliancy ; 
which strikingly contrasted with a com- 
plei^on of snowy whiteness. Her dress 
was extremely elegant, but had an appear- 
ance of foreign fashion, as if both the lady 
and her mantua-maker were of <^ a far 


I guess 'twas frightful there to see 
A lady so richly clad as she. 
Beautiful exceedingly/' 

For, if it be terrible' to one young lady to 
find another under a tree at midnight, it 
must, i forlioriy be much more terrible to a 


young gentleman to find a young lady in 
his study at that hour. If the logical con- 
secutiveness of this conclusion be not mani- 
fest to my readers, I am sorry for their 
dulness, and must refer them, for more 
ample elucidation, to a treatise which Mr. 
Flosky intends to write, on the Categories 
of Relation, which comprehend Substance 
and Accident^ Cause and Effect, Action and 

Scythrop, therefore, either was or ought 
to have been frightened : at all events, he 
was astonished ; and astonishment, though 
not in itself fear, is nevertheless a good 
stage towards it, and is, indeed, as it were, 
the half-way house between respect and 
terror, according to Mr. Burke's graduated 
scale of the sublime.* 

* There mast be some mistake in tliis, for the 
whole honorable band of gentlemen-pensioners has 

. A 


" You are surprised," said the lady ; ** yet 
i¥liy should you be surprised ? If you had 

resolved uoaDimously, that Mr. Barke was a very 
sablime person, particularly after lie had prostituted 
bis own souly aod betrayed his country and mankind, 
for 1200/. a year: yet he does not appear to have 
been a very terrible personage, and certainly pos- 
sessed no portion of human respect, though he con- 
trived to excite, in a great degree, the astonishment 
of all honest men. Our immaculate laureate (who 
gives us to understand that, if he had not been purified 
by holy matrimony into a mystical type, he would 
have died a virgin,) is another sublime gentleman of 
the same genus: he very much astonished some per- 
sons when he sold his birth-right for a pot of sack ; 
but not even his Sosia has a grain of respect for 
him, though, doubtless, he thinks his name very ter- 
rible to the enemy, when he flourishes bis critico- 
poeticopolitical tomahawk, aud sets up his Indian 
yell for the blood of his old friends: but, at best, 
he is a mere political scarecrow, a man of straw, 
ridiculous to all who know of what materials he is 
made ; and to none more so, than to those who have 
ittuffed him, and set him up, as the Priapus of the gar- 
den of the golden apples of corruption. 

\ * 


met me in a drawing-room^ and I had j>eeii 
introduced to you by an old woman, it would 
have been a matter of course : can the divi- 
sion of two or three walls, and the abaence 
of an unimportant personage, make the same 
object essentially different in the perception 
of a philosopher ?" 

*^ Certainly not/* said Scytbrop^ <* but 
when any class of objects has habitually pre- 
sented itself to our perceptions, in invariable 
conjunction with particular relations, then, 
on the sudden appearance of one object <^ 
the class, divested of those accompaniments^ 
the ess^itial difference of the relation is, by 
an involuntary process, transferred to the 
object itself, which thus offers itself to our 
perceptions with all the strangeness of no- 

" You are a philosopher," said the lady, 
" and a lover of liberty. You are the au* 


thor of a treatise^ called < Pbilosophical 
Ga9 ; oTy a Project for a General lUttmiQiation 
of ihe Humaa Mind.' '' 

** I aoi^" said Scytbropi delighted at this 
first blossom of hie renown. 

** I am a (trenger in thi^ country^" said 
the lady ; I have been but a few days in it, 
yet I find myaelf immediately nnder the 
necessity of seeking refuge from an atro-> 
cioos persecution. I had no friend to whom 
I could apply> a«id> in the midst of my 
difficulties, accident threw your pamphlet 
in my way. I saw that I had, at least, one 
kindred mind ia this nation, and determined 
to apply to you.'* 

** And what would you haire me do?'* 
said Scythrop, more and more amazed, and 
not a little perplexed. 

*^ I would hare you,^' ssid the youiig 
lady, << assist me in finding some place of 


retreat; M-here I can remain concealed from 
the indefatigable search that is being maide 
for me. I have been so nearly caught once 
or twice already, that I cannot confide any 
longer in my own ingenuity." 

Doubtless, thought Scythrop, this is otfe 
of my golden candlesticks. ^' I have con- 
structed/' said he, *^ in this tower, an en- 
trance to a small suite of unknown apart- 
ments in the main building, which I defy 
any creature living to detect. If you would 
like to remain there a day or two, till I can 
find you a more suitable concealment, you 
may rely on the honor of a transcendental 

" I rely on myself," said the lady. « I 
act as I please, go where I please, and let 
the world say what it will. I am rich enough 
to set it at defiance. It is the tyrant of the 


poor and the feeble, but the slave 6f those 
ivho are above the reach of its injury/' 

Scythrop ventured to enquire the name of 
his idAV protegee. " What is a name?" said 
the lady : " any name will serve the pur- 
pose of distinction. Call me Stella. — I see, 
by your looks," she added, ^* that you think 
all this very strange. When you know me 
better, your surprise will cease. I submit 
not to be an accomplice in my sex's slavery. 
I am, like yourself, a lover of freedom, ttnd 
I carry my theory into practice. They 
alone are subject to blind authority who h^voe 
710 reliance on their 0um strength J^^ 

Stella took possession of the recondite 
apartments. Scythrop intended to find her 
another asylum, but from day to day he 
postponed his intention, and by degrees 
forgot it. The yout^g lady reminded him 
of it from day to day, till she also forgot it. 


Scy tbrop was anxion* tp leani her history ; 
but she would add nothing to what the had 
already eommuoicated^ that ahe waa shun- 
ning an atrocious persecution* Scythrop 
thought of Lord C. and the Alien Act^ 
and said, '< As yon will not tell yonr 
name, I suppose it is in the green-bag/* 
Stella, not understanding what he meant, 
was silent; and Scythrop, translating si- 
lence into acquiescence, eonehided that he 
was sheltering an iilumince, whom Lord 
& suspected of an intention to take the 
Tower, and set fire to the Bank : ejrplbits, 
at least, as likely to be accompKshed by 
the hands and eyes of a young beauty, as 
by a drunken cobbler and doctor, armed 
with a pamphlet and an old stocking* 

Stella, in her conversations with Scjrthrop, 
displayed a highly cultivated and energetic 
mind, full of impassioned schemes of liberty, 


And impatience of masculine usurpation. 
She bad a lively sense of all the oppressions 
that are done under the sun ; and the vivid 
pictures which her imagination presented to 
her of the numberless scenes of injustice 
and misery which are being acted at every 
moment in every part of the inhabited 
worlds gave an habitual seriousness to her 
physiognomy^ that made it seem as if a 
smite bad nevet^ once hovered on her lips. 
She was intimately conversant with the Ger- 
man language and literature ; and Scy throp 
listened with delight to her repetitions of 
her favorite p^sages from Schiller and 
Gdethe, and to her encomiums on the sub- 
lime Spartacus Weishaupt, the immortal 
founder of the sect of the Illuminati. Scy- 
throp found that hiis soul had a greater 
capacity of love than the image c^ Marion-^ 
etta bad filled. The form of Stella took 


possession of every vacant corner of the ca- 
vity, and by degrees displaced that of Ma- 
rionetta from many of the outworks of the 
citadel, though the latter stiil held possession 
of the keep. He judged, from his new friend 
calling herself Stella, that, if it were not her 
real name, she was an admirer of the princi- 
ples of the German play from which, she 
had taken it, and took an opportunity of 
leading the conversation to that subject : 
but, to his great surprise, the lady spoke 
very ardently of the singleness and exclu* 
siveness of love, and declared that the reign 
of affection was one and indivisible ; that it 
might be transferred, but could not be par- 
ticipated. " If I ever love," said she, ** I 
shall do so without limit or restriction. I 
shall hold all difficulties light, all sacrifices 
cheap, all obstacles gossamer. Butj for 
love so total, I shall claim a return as abso- 


lute* I will have no rival : whether more or 
less favoured will be of little moment. I 
will be neither first nor second — I will be 
alone. The heart which I shall possess I 
will possess entirely, or entirely renounce." 
Scy throp did not dare to mention the name 
of Marionetta: he trembled lest some un* 
lucky accident should reveal it to Stella, 
though he scarcely knew what result to wish 
xyr anticipate, and lived in the double fever 
of a perpetual dilemma. He could not dis- 
semble to himself that he was in love, at the 
^Bame time, with two damsels of minds and 
habits as remote as the Antipodes. The 
scale of predilection always inclined to the 
fair one who happened to be present, but 
the absent was never effectually outweighed, 
though the degrees of exaltation and de- 
pression varied according to accidental va- 
riations in the outward and visible signs of 


the inward and spiritual graces of liis re* 
spective cbarmers. Passing and re^passiag 
several times a day from the eompaiiy of the 
one to that of the other, he was like a shut* 
tlecock between two battledores, changing 
its direction as rapidly as the oscillauons of 
a pendulum, receiving many a hard knock 
on the cork of a sensitive heart, and flying 
from point to point on the feathers of a 
soper-sublimated head. This was an awful 
state of things. He had now as much mys« 
tery about him as any romantic transcen* 
dentalist or transcendental romancer could 
desire. He bad his esoterical and his exote- 
rical love. He could not endure the thought 
of losing either of them, but he trembled 
when he imagined the possibility that some 
fatal discovery might deprive him of both. 
The old proverb concermng two strings 
to a bow gave him some gleams of comfort : 


but that concerning two stools occurred to 
him more frequentlyj and covered his fore- 
head with a cold perspiration. With Stella, 
he could indulge freely in all his romantic 
and philosophical visions. He could build 
castles in the air, and she would pile towers 
and turrets on the imaginary edifices. With 
Marionetta, it was otherwise : she knew 
nothing of the world and society beyond 
the sphere of her own experience. Her life 
was all music and sunshine, and she woh-* 
dered what any one could see to complain 
of in such a pleasant state of things. She 
loved Scythrop, she hardly knew why: in- 
deed, she was not always sure that she loved 
him at all : she felt her fondness increase or 
diminish in an inverse ratio to his. When 
«he had manoeuvred him into a fever of 
passionate love, she often felt, and always 
assumed indifference : if she found that her 




coldness was contagious^ and that Scythrop 
either was, or pretended to be, as indifferent 
as herself, she would become doubly kind^ 
and raise him again to that elevation from 
which she had previously thrown him down* 
Thus, when his love was floiivdng, hers was 
ebbing: when his was ebbing, hers was 
flowing. Now and then there were mo- 
ments of level tide, when reciprocal affec- 
tion seemed to promise imperturbable har- 
mony : but Scythrop could scarcely resign 
bis spirit to the pleasing illusion, before the 
pinnace of the lover's affections was caught 
in some eddy of the lady's paprice, and he 
was whirled away from the shore of his 
hopes, without rudder or compass, into an 
ocean of mists and storms. It resulted, 
from this system of conduct, that all that 
passed between Scythrop and Marionetta 
consisted in making and unmaking love. 


He had no opportunity to take measure of 
Iier understanding by conversation on g&>- 
xieral subjects, and on his favorite designs; 
and, being left, in this respect, to the 
exercise of indefinite conjecture, he took it 
for granted, as most lovers would do in 
similar circumstances, that she had great 
natural talents, which she wasted at present 
on trifles: but coquetry would end with 
marriage, and leave room for philosophy to 
exert its influence on her mind. Stella had 
no coquetry, no disguise: she was an en- 
thusiast in subjects of general interest ; and 
her conduct to Scythrop was always uni- 
form, or rather shewed a regular progression 
of partiality, which seemed fast ripehilSg 
into love. 

H 2 



ScYTHROP) attending one day the summons 
to dinner^ found in the drawing-room his 
friend Mr. Cypress, the poet, whom he had 
known at college, and who was a great fa« 
vourite of Mr. Glowry. Mr. Cypress said, 
he was on the point of leaving England, but 
could not think of doing so without a fare- 
well look at Nightmare Abbey and his 


respected friends, the moody Mr. Glowry 
and the mysterious Mr. Scythrop, the sub- 
lime Mr. Flosky and the pathetic Mr. List- 
less; to all of whom, and the morbid hos- 
pitality of the melancholy dwelling, in which 
they were then assembled, he assured them 
he should always look back with as much 
affection as his lacerated spirit could feel for 


any thing. The sympathetic condolence of 
their respective replies was cut short by 
Raven's announcement of ** dinner on ta- 

The conversation that took place when the 
wine was in circulation^ and the ladies were 
withdrawn, we shall report with our usual 
scrupulous fidelity* 


You are leaving England, Mr. Cypress* 
There is a delightful melancholy in saying 
farewell to an old acquaintance, when the 
chances are twenty to one against ever meet- 
ing again. A smiling bumper to a sad 
parting, and let us all be unhappy together. 

MR* CYPR£SS (filling a bumper). 

This is the only social habit that the dift- 
appointed spirit never unlearns* 




It is the only piece of academical learning 
that the finished educatee retains. 


It is the only objective fact which the 
sceptic can realise. 

scYTHROP (filUng). 
It is the only styptic for a bleeding heart. 


It is the only trouble that is very nvelt 
worth taking* 

MR. ASTERIA9<:(^Klftf^. 

It is the only key of conversational truth. 

MR. TOOBAD (filling). 

It is the only antidote to the great wrath 
of the devil. 


MB. HILABY (JlUtng). 

It is the only symbol of perfect life. Tbe 
inscription hic non bibitur will suit no- 
thing but a tomb-stone. 



You will see many fine old ruins, Mr. 
Cypress, crumbling pillars, dnd mossy 
walls — many a one-legged Venus and head- 
less Minerva — ^many a Neptune buried ia 
sand — many a Jupiter turned topsy-turvy — 
many a perforated Bacchus doing duty as ar 
water-pipe — many renliniscences of the an- 
cient world, which I hope was better worth 
living in than the jmodern ; though, for my- 
selfy I care not a straw more for one than 
the other, and would not go twenty miles 
to see any thing that either could shew. 


It is something to seek, Mr. GIowry» 






The mind is restless^ and must persist in 
seeking, though to find is to be disappointed. 
Do you feel no aspirations towards the 
countries of Socrates and Cicero ? no wisJi 
to wander among the venerable remains of 
the greatness that has past for ever ? 


Kot a grain. 


It is, indeed, much the same as if a lover 
should dig up the buried form of his mis. 
tress, and gaze upon relics which are any 
thing but herself, to wander among a few 
mouldy ruins, that are only hnperfect in- 
dexes to lost volumes of glory, and meet at 
every step the more melancholy ruins of 
human nature — a degenerate race of stupid 
and shrivelled slaves, grovelling in the low- 
est depths of servility and superstitious 



It is the fashion to go abroad. I have 
thought of it myself, but am hardly equal to 
the exertion. To be sure, a little eccentri - 
city and originality are allowable in some 
cases; and the most eccentric and original 
of characters is an Englishman who stays at 


I should have no pleasure in visiting 
countries that are past all hope of regene- 
ration. There is great hope of our owd ; 
and it seems to me that an Englishman, 
' who, either by his station in society, or by 
his genius, or (as in your instance, Mr. 
Cypress,) by both, has the power of essen- 
tially serving his country in its arduous 
strug^e with its domestic enemies, yet for- 
sakes his country, which is still so rich in 

H 5 


hope^ to dwell in others which are only fer« 
tile in the ruins of memory, does what none 
of those ancients, whose fragmentary me- 
morials you venerate, would have done in 
similar circumstances. 


Sir^ I have quarrelled with my wife ; and 
a man who has quarrelled with his wife is 
absolved from all duty to his country. I 
have written an ode to tell the people as 
much, and they may take it as they list. 


Do you suppose, if Brutus bad quarrelled 
with his wife, he would have given it to 
Cassius as a reason for having nothing to do 
with his enterprise? Or would Cassius have 
been satisfied with such an excuse i 


Brutus was a senator ; so is- our dear 



friend : but the cases are'different. Brutus 
had some hope of political good : Mr. Cy- 
press has none. How should he, after what 
we have seen in France ? 


A Frenchman is a monstrous compound 
of monkey, spaniel, and tiger: the most 
parasitical, the most servile, and the most 
cruel, of all animals in human shape. He 
is born in harness, ready saddled, bitted, 
and bridled, for any tyrant to ride. He will 
fsLvm under his rider one moment, and 
throw him and kick him to death the next : 
but another adventurer springs on his back, 
and, by dint of whip and spur, on he goes 
as before, dipping his handkerchief in blood 
or in otto of roses with the same polite 
empressementf and cutting a throat or an 
orange with the same grinning nonchalance* 


France is no precedent for the hopes and 
prospects of enlightened , feeling, and ge- 
nerous nations. 


I have no hope for myself or for others. 
Our life is a false nature*, it is not in the 
harmony of things: it is an all-blasting 
upas, whose root is earth, and whose leaves 
are the skies which rain their poison-dews 
upon mankind. We wither from our youth: 
we gasp with unslaked thirst for unattain- 
able good : lured from the first to the last 
by phantoms — love, fame, ambition, ava- 
rice — all idle and all ill — one meteor of 
many names, that vanishes in the smoke of 


A most delightful speech, Mr. Cypress. 

II I ' ' ■ ■ I . .1. II ■ ■ II ■! ■ —I— ^MM^ 

"* Cbilde Harold: Canto 4. cxxiy. cxx?k 


A most amiable and instructive philosopbjr. 
You have only to impress its truth on the 
minds of all living men, and life will then, 
indeed, be the desert and the solitude; and 
I must do you, myself, and our mutual 
friends, the justice to observe, that, let so- 
ciety only give fair play at one and the 
same time, as I flatter myself it is inclined 
to do, to your system of morals, and my 
system of metaphysics, and Scythrop's sys- 
tem of politics, and Mr. Listless^s system of 
manners, and Mr. Toobad^s 3ystem of re- 
ligion; and the result will be as fine a 
mental chaos as even the immortal Kant 
himself could ever have hoped to see; in 
the prospect of which I rejoice. 


** Certainly, ancient, it is not a thing to 
rejoice at :" I am one of those who cannot 
see the good that is to result from all this 


inistifying and blue-devilling of society. 
The contrast it presents to the cheerful and 
solid wisdom of antiquity, is too forcible not 
to strike any one who has the Jeast know- 
ledge of classical literature. To represent 
vice and misery as the necessary accom- 
paniments of genius, is as mischievous as it 
is false, and the feeling is as unclassical as the 
language in which it is usually expressed. 


It is our calamity. The devil has come 
among us, and has begun by taking posses- 
sion of all the cleverest fellows. Yet, for- 
sooth, this is the enlightened age. Marry, 
how? Did our ancestors go peeping about 
with dark lanterns ; and do we walk at our 
ease in broad sunshine ? Where is the ma- 
nifestation of our light ? By what symptoms 
do you recognise it? What are its signs, its 
tokens, its symptoms, its symbols, its catego- 


ries, its conditions ? What is it, and why ? 
How, where, when, is it to be seen, felt, and 
understood ? What do tire see by it which our 
ancestors saw not, and which at the same tioie 
is worth seeing ? We see a hundred men 
banged, where they saw one. We see five 
hundred transported, where they saw one, 
We see five thousand in the workhouse, 
where they saw one. We see scores of 
Bible Societies, where they saw none. We 
see paper,, where they saw gold. We see 
men in stays, where they saw men in ar- 
mour. We see painted faces, where they 
saw healthy ones. We see children perish- 
ing in manufactories, where they saw them 
flourishing in the fields. We see prisons, 
where they saw castles. We see masters, 
where they saw representatives. , In short, 
they saw true men, where we see false 


knaves. They saw Milton,, and we see Mr^ 


**The false knave, sir, is my honest friend f 
therefore, I beseech you, let him be coun- 
tenanced. God forbid but a knave should 
have some countenance at his friend's re- 


*^ Good men and true" was their com- 
mon term, like the KoKog niya^og of the 
Athenians. It is so long since men have 
been either good or true, that it is to be 
questioned which is. most obsolete, the fact 
or the phraseology. 


There is no worth nor beauty but in the 
mind's idea. Love sows the wind and reaps 


the whifl wind.* Confusion, thrice con* 
founded, is the portion of him, who rests, 
even for an instant, on that most brittle of 
reeds — the affection of a human being. The 
sum of our social destiny is to inflict or to 
endure, t 


Rather to bear and forbear, Mr. Cypress, — 
a maxim which you perhaps despise. Ideal 
beauty is not the mind's creation: it is 
real beauty, refined and purified in - the 
mind's alembic, from the alloy which always 
more or less accompanies it in our mixed 
and imperfect nature. But still the gold 
exbts in a very ample degree. To expect 
too much, is a disease in the expectftat, for 
' which human nature is not responsible; and. 

• Childe Harold : Canto 4. cxxiik 
t lb. Cantb 9. Ixxi. 


in the common name of humanity , I pro- 
test against these false and mischievous 
ravings. To rail against humanity for not 
being abstract perfection, and against hu- 
man love for not realising all the splendid 
visions of the poets of chivalry, is to rail at 
the summer for not being all sunshine, and 
at the rose for not being always in bloom. 


Human love! Love is not an inhabitant 
of the earth. We worship him as the Athe- 
nians did their Unknown God : but broken 
hearts are the martyrs of his faith, and the 
eye shall never see the form which Phantasy 
paints, and which Passion pursues through 
paths of delusive beauty; among flowers, 
whose odours are agonies; and trees, whose 
gums are poison.* 

* Cbilde Harold : Canto 4. cxxi. cxxx¥i« 



You talk like a RosicrusiaD| who will 
love nothing but a sylph, who does not be- 
lieve in the existence of a sylph, and who 
yet quarrels with the whole universe for not 
containing a sylph. 


The mind is diseased of its own beauty, 
and fevers into false creation. The forms 
which the sculptor^s soul has seized, exist 
only in himself.* 


Permit me to discept. They are the 
mediums of common forms combined and 
arranged into a common standard. The 
ideal beauty of the Helen of Zeuxis was 
the combined medium of the real beauty of 
the virgins of Crotona. 

* Cbilde Harold: Canto 4. cxxii. 




But to make ideal beauty the shadow m 
the water, and, like the dog in the fable, to 
throw away the substance in catching at 
the shadow, is scarcely the characteristic of 
wisdom, whatever it may be of genius. To 
reconcile man, ajs^ he is, to the world as it 
is, to preserve and improve all that is good^ 
and destroy or alleviate all that is evil, in 
physical and moral nature, — have been the 
hope and aim of the greatest teachers imd 
ornaments of our species* I will say, too, 
that the highest wisdom and the highest 
genius have been invariably accompanied 
with cheerfulness. We have suiEcient proofs 
on record, that Shakespeare and Socrates 
were the most festive of companions. But 
now the little wisdom and genius we bave^ 
seem to be entering into a conspiracy 
against cheerfulness. 


How can we be cheerful with the devil 
amoqg us ? 


How can we oe cheerful when our nerves 
are shattered ? 


How can we be cheerful, when we are 
surrounded by a reading public, that is 
growing too wise for its betters ? 


How can we be cheerful when our great 
general designs are crossed every moment 
by our little particular passions ? 


' How can we be cheerful in the midst of 
disappointment and despair ? 


Let us all be unhappy together. 



Let US sing a catch. 


No: a nice tragical ballad. The Norfolk 
Tragedy to the tune of the hundredth 


I say a catch. 


I say no. A song from Mr. Cypress. 


A song from Mr. Cypress. 

MR. CYPRESS 4tin^: 
There is a fever of the spirit, 
The brand of Cain's unresting doom, 
Which in the lone dark souls that bear it 
Glows like the lamp in TuIIia's tomb: 
Unlike that lamp, its subtle fire 
Burns, blasts, consames its cell, the heart, 
Till, one by one, hope, joy, desire. 
Like dreams of shadowy smoke depart 


When hope, love, life itself, are only 
Dast — spectral memories— dead and cold — 
The unfed fire burns bright and lonely, 
Like that undying lamp of old: 
And by that drear illumination. 
Till time its clay-bniit home has rent, 
Thought broods on feeling's desolation—- 
The soul is its own monument* 


Admirable. Let us all be unhappy to- 


Now, I say again, a catch. 


I am for you. 


<* Seamen three." 


Agreed. Til be Harry Gill, with the 
voice of three. Begin. 



Seamen three! What men be ye? 
Gotham's three wise men we be. 
Whither in your bowl so free? 
To rake the moon from out the sea. 
The^bowl goes trim. The moon doth shine. 
And our ballast is old wine. 
And your ballast is old wine 

Who art thou, so fast adrift ? 
I am he they call Old Care. 
Here on-board we will thee lift. 
No : I may not enter there. 
Wherefore so ? ^fis Jove's decree. 
In a bowl Care may not be. 
In a bowl Care may not be. 

Fear ye not the waves that roll? 

No : in charmed bowl we swim. 

What the charm that floats the bowl? 

Water may not pass the brim. 

The bow-1 goes trim.' The*moon doth shine. 

And our ballast is old wine; 

And your ballast is old wine. 


This catch was so well executed by the 
spirit and science of Mr. Hilary, and the 
deep tri-une voice of the reverend gentle- 
man, that the whole party, in spite of 
themselves, caught the contagion, and join- 
ed in chorus at the conclusion, each raising 
a bumper to his lips : 

The bowl goes trim : the moon doth Mae : 
And oar ballast is old wine. 

Mr. Cypress, having his ballast on board, 
stepped, the same evening, into his bowl, 
or travelling chariot; and departed to rake 
seas and rivers, lakes and canals, for the 
moon of ideal beauty. 



It was the custom of the Honorable Mr. 
Listless, on adjonming from the bottle to 
the ladies, to retire for a few moments to 
make a second toilette, that he might pre* 
sent himself in becoming taste. Fatout, 
attending as usual, appeared with a coun- 
tenance of great dismay, and informed his 
master that he had just ascertained that the 
Abbey was haunted. Mrs. Hilary's gentle" 
woman J for whom Fatout had lately con- 
ceived a tendresse, had been, as she ex- 
pressed it, " fritted out of her seventeen 
senses** the preceding night, as she was 
retiring to her bed-chamber, by a ghastly 
figure, which she had met stalking along 


^ne of the galleries, wrapped in a white 
shroud 9 with a bloody turban on its head. 
She had fainted away with fear; and^ when 
she recorered, she found herself in the dark^ 
and^the figure was gone. " Sacre-r-cochon 
-^bleu .'" exclaimed Fatout, giving very de« 
liberate emphasis to every portion of his 
terrible oath, — " 1 vould not meet de reve^ 
nanty de ghost — non — not for all de bowl-de^ 
ponch in de vorld." 

<* Fatout," said the Honorable Mr. List- 
less, " did I ever see a ghost?" 

«* JamaiSy Monsieur, never." 

<* Then I hope I never shall, for, in the pre- 
sent shattered state of my nerves, I am afraid 
it would be too much for me. There — loosen 
the lace of my stays a little, for really this 
plebeian practice of eating — Not too loose — 
consider my shape. That will do, And I 
desire that you bring me no more stories of 

I 2 


ghosts; for, though I do not believe in such 
things, yet, when one is awake in the nighty 
one is apt, if one thinks of them, to have 
fancies that give one a kind of a chill, par* 
ticularly if one opens one's eyes suddeoly 
on one's dressing-gown, hanging in the 
moonlight, between the bed and the win- 

The Honorable Mr. Listless, though he 
had prohibited Fatout from bringirig him 
any more stories of ghosts^ could not help 
thinking of that which Fatout had already 
brought; and, as it was uppermost in his 
mind, when he descended to the tea and 
coffee cups, and the rest of the company in 
the library, he almost involuntarily asked 
Mr. Flosky, whom he looked up to as a 
most oraculous persons^e, whether any story 
of any ghost that bad ever appeared to any 
one, was entitled to any degree of belief? 



By far the greater ninnber, to a very 
great degree. 


Really, that is very alarming. 


Sunt gemina somni porta. There are two 
gates through which ghosts, find their way 
to the upper air : fraud and self-delusion. 
In the latter case, a ghost is a deceptio vaf- 
suSf an ocular spectrum, an idea with the 
force of a sensation. I have seen many 
ghosts myself. I dare say there are few m 
this company who have not seen a ghost. 


I am happy to say, I never have, for one. 


We have such high authority for ghosts> 
that it is rank scepticism to disbelieve them. 

I 3 


Job saw a ghost, which came . for the ex- 
press purpose of asking a question^ and did 
not wait for an answer. 


Because Job was too frightened to give 


Spectres appeared to the Egyptians 
during the darkness with which Moses co- 
vered Egypt. The witch of Endor raised 
the ghost of Samuel. Moses and Elias ap- 
jieared on Mount Tabor. An evil spirit was 
sent into the army of Sennacherib, and ex* 
terminated it in a single night. 


Saying, The devil is come among you, 
having great wrath. 


Saint Macarius interrogated a skull, which 


was found in the desert, and made it relate, 
in presence of several .witnesses, what was 
going forward in hell. Saint Martin, of 
Tours, being jealous of a pretended martyr, 
who was^e rival saint of his neighbour* 
hood, called up his ghost, and made him 
confess that he was damned. Saint Ger- 
main, being on his travels, turned out of an 
inn a large party of ghosts, who had every 
night taken possession of the table d^hSie, 
and consumed a copious supper. 


Jolly gfaotts, and no doubt all friars. A 
similar parQr took possession of the cellar of 
M. Swebach, the painter, in Paris, drank 
his wine, and threw the empty bottles at his 


An atrocious act. 

I 4 



Pausanias relates^ that the neighing of 
horses and the tumult of combatants were 
heard every night on the field of Marathon : 
that those \(rho went purposely to hear these 
sounds suffered severely for their curiosity : 
but those who heard them by accident 
passed with impunity^ 


I once saw a ghost myself, in my study; 
which is the last place where any one but 
a ghost would look for me. I had not 
been into it for three months, and was going 
to CQpsu.U Tillotson, when, on opening the 
door, I saw a venerabfe figure in a flannel 
dressing-gown, sitting in my arm-chair, and 
reading my Jereniy Taylor. It vanished in 
a moment, and so did I;^ and wh^t it was 


®r what it wanted 1 have never been able to 


It was an idea with the force of a sensa- 
tion. It is seldom that ghosts appeal to two 
senses at once : but, when I vvas in Devon- 
shire, the following story was well attested 
to me. A young woman, whose lover was 
at sea, returning one evening over some 
solitary fields, saw her lover sitting on a 
stile over which she was to pass. Her first 
emotions were surprise and joy, but there 
was a paleness and seriousness in his face 
that made them give place to alarm. She 
advanced towards him, and he said to her, 
in a solemn voice, '* The eye that hath 
seen me ^ shall see me no more. Thine 
eye is upon me, but I am not." And with 
these words he vanished ; and on that very 

I 5 

— ■ ^ — 



day and hour, as it afterwards appeared, he 
had perished by shipwreck. 

The whole party now drew round in a 
circle, and each related some ghostly anec- 
dote, heedless of the flight of time, till, in 
a pause of the conversation, they beard 
the hollow tongue of midnight sounding 


All these anecdotes admit of solution on 
psychological principles. It is more easy 
for a soldier, a philosopher, or even a saint, 
to be frightened at his own shadow, than 
for a dead man to come out of his grave. 
Medical writers cite a thousand singular 
examples of the force of imagination. Per* 
sons of feeble, nervous, melancholy, tem- 
perament, exhausted by fever, by labour, 
or )»y spare diet, will readily conjure up, in 



the magic ring af their own phantasy, 
spectres, gorgons, chimaBras, and all the 
objects of their hatred and their love. We 
are most of us like Don duixote, to whom 
a windmill was a giant, and Dulcinea a 
magnificent princess: all more or less the 
dupes of our own imagination, though we 
do not all go so far as to see ghosts, or to 
fancy ourselves pipkins and teapots. 


I can safely say I have seen too many 
ghosts myself to believe in their external 
existence. I have seen all kinds of ghosts: 
black spirits and white, red spirits and grey. 
Some in the shapes of venerable old men, 
who have met me in my rambles at noon : 
some of beautiful young women, who liave 
peeped through my curtains at midnight. 




And have proved, I doubt not, ** palpable 
to feeling as to sight/ 



By no means, sir. You reflect upon my 
purity. Myself and my friends, particularly 
my friend Mr. Sackbnt, are famous for oar 
purity. No, sir, genuine untangible ghost$. 
I live in a world of ghosts. I see a ghost 
at this moment. 

Mr. Flosky fixed his eyes on a door at the 
farther end of the library. The company 
looked in the same direction. The door 
silently opened, and a ghastly figure, 
shrouded in white drapery, with the sem« 
blance of a bloody turban on its head, en- 
tered, and stalked slowly up the apartment. 
Mr. Flosky, familiar as he was with ghosts. 



wa& not prepared for this apparition, and 
made the best of his way out at the opposite 
door. Mrs. Hilary and Marionetta follow-* 
ed, screaming. The Honorable Mr. Listless, 
by two turns of his body, rolled first off the 
sofa and then under it. The Reverend Mr. 
Larynx leaped up and fled with so much 
precipitation, that he overturned the table 
on the foot of Mr. dowry. Mr. Glowry 
roared with pain in the ear of Mr. Too- 
bad. Mr. Toobad's alarm so bewildered 
his senses, that, missing the door, be threw 
up one of the windows, jumped out in his 
panic, and plunged over head and ears in 
the moat. Mr. Aster ias and his son, who 
were on the watch for their mermaid, were 
attracted by the splashing, threw a net over 
him, and dragged him to land. 

Scythrop and Mr. Hilary meanwhile, 
had hastened to his assistance, and, on 


arriving at the edge of the moat, followed 
by several servants with ropes and torches, 
found Mr. Asterias and Aquarius busy in 
endeavouring to extricate Mr. Toobad from 
the net, who was entangled in the meshes, 
and floundering with rage. Scythrop was 
lost in amazement; but Mr. Hilary saw, at 
one view, all the circumstances of the ad- 
venture, and burst into an immoderate fit of 
laughter ; on recovering from which, he said 
to Mr. Asterias, ** You have caught an odd 
fish, indeed." Mr. Toobad was highly ex- 
asperated at this unseasonable pleasantry; 
but Mr. Hilary softened his anger, by pro- 
ducing a knife, and cutting the Gordian knot 
of his reticular envelopement. " You see,*' 
said Mr. Toobad, ** you see, gentlemen, in 
my unfortunate person, proof upon proof 
of the present dominion of the devil in the 
affairs of this world ; and I have no doubt 

»*->-. - 


but that the apparition of this night was 
Apollyon himself in disguise, sent for the 
express purpose of terrifying me into this 
complication of misadventures. The devil 
is come among you, having great wrath, 
because he knoweth that he bath but a short 



Mk. Glowry was much surprised, on oc- 
casionally visiting Scythrop*s tower, to find 
the door always locked, and to be kept 
sometimes waiting many minutes for ad- 
mission : during which he invariably heard 
a heavy rolling sound, like that of a pon- 
derous mangle, or of a waggon, or of a 
weighing-bridge, or of theatrical thunder. 

He took little notice of this for some time : 
at length his curiosity , was excited, and, 
one day, instead of knocking at the door, 
as usual, the instant he reached it, he ap- 
plied bis ear to the key-hole, and like Bot- 
tom, in the Midsummer Night^s Dream, 
** spied a voice," which he guessed to be 


of the feminine gender, and knew to be not 
Soythrop^s, whose deeper tones he distin- 
guished at intervals. Having attempted in 
vain to catch a syllable of the discoursei be 
knocked violently at the door, and roared 
for immediate admission. The voices ceasedi 
the accustomed rolling sound was heardj the 
door opened^ and Scythrop was discovered 
alone. Mr. Glowry looked round to every 
comer of the apartment, and then said^ 
«< Where is the lady?" 

** T^e lady, sir ?'* said Scythrop. 

" Yes, sir, the lady." 

" Sir, I do not understand you." 

" Yqu don^t, sir ?" 

** No, indeed, sir. There is no lady here." 

** But, sir, this is not the only apartment 
in the tower, and I make no doubt there is 
a lady up-stairs." 

<♦ Yqu are welcome tq se^rcbi w.'* 



** Yesy and| ^hile I am tearcbing, she will 
slip out from some lurkiog-place^ and make 
her escape." 

'^ You may lock this door, sir, and take 
the key with you," 

'^ But there is the terrace-door :' she has 
escaped by the terrace. 

'^ The terrace, sir, has no other outlet^ 
and the walls are too high for a lady to 
jump down.*' 

** Well, sir, give me the kqr." 

Mr. dowry took the key, searched every 
nook of the tower, and returned. 

'^ You are a fox, Scytbrop; you are an 
exceedingly cunning fox, with that demure 
visage of yours. What was that lumber- 
ing sound I heard before you opened the. 

«^ Sound, sir ?'* 

" Yes, sir, sound." 


<* My dear sir, I am not aware of atiy 
sounds except my great table, which I 
moved on rising to let you in/' 

" The table ! — ^let me see that. No, sir ; 
not a tenth part heavy enough^ not a tenth 

^' But, sir, you do not consider the laws 
of acoustics : a whisper becomes a peal of 
thunder in the focus of reverberation. Allow 
me to explain this: Sounds striking on con« 
cave surfaces are reflected from them, and, 
after reflection, converge to points which 
are the foci of these surfaces. It follows, 
therefore, that the ear may be so placed in 
one, as that it shall hear a sound better than 
when situated nearer to the point of the 
first impdlse: again, in the case of two 
concave surfaces placed opposite to each 
©ther— " 
** Nonsense, sir. Don't tell me of foci. 


Pray, sir, will concave surfaces produce two 
YCHces when nobody speaks? I beard two 
voices, and one was feminine; feminine^ 
sir: what say you to that V* 

^' Oh ! sir, I perceive your mistake : I am 
writing a tragedy, and was acting over a 
scene to myself. To convince you, I will 
give you a specimen: but you must first 
understand the plot. It is a tragedy on the 
German model. The Great Mogul is in 
exile, and has taken lodgings at Kensing- 
ton, with his only daughter, the Princess 
Rahtrorina, who takes in needle^work, and 
keeps a day-school. The Princess is dis- 
covered hemming a set of shirts for the parson 
of the parish : they are to be marked with a 
large J?. Enter to her the Great Moguls 
A pause y during which they look at each other 
expressively. The Princess changes colour 

several times* The ifognl takes sntijf m 


great agitation. Several grains are heard to 
faU on the stage. His heart is seen to beat 
throygh his upper benjamin. — The Mogul, 
fmth a mourrtful look at his left shoe J " My 
shoe-string is broken.^' — The Prikcess, 
(after an interval of melancholy reflection J 
** I know it." — The Mogul, " My second 
shoe-string! The first broke when I lost 
my eoQipire : the second has broken to-day* 
When will my poor heart break?'* — The 
Princess, ^^ Shoe-strings, hearts, and em- 
pires ! Mysterious sympathy !*' 

" Nonsense, sir," interrupted Mr. dow- 
ry. ^^ That is not at all like the voice I 

** But, sir," said Scythfop, ** a key-hole 
may be so constructed as to act like an 
acoustic tube, and an acoustic tube, sir, will 
modify sound in a very remarkable manner. 
Consider the construction of th^ ear, and 


the nature and causes of sound. The ex« 
ternal part of the ear is a cartilaginous 

" It wo*n't do, Scythrop. There is a girl 
concealed in this tower, and find her I will. 
There are such things as diding pannels and 
secret close ts."-*- He sounded round the 
room with his cane, hut detected no hollow* 
ness. — " I have heard, sir,'* he continued, 
<' that, during my absence, two years ago, 
you had a dumb carpenter closeted with 
you day after day* I did not dream that 
you were laying contrivaiKes for carry- 
ing on secret intrigues. Young men will 
have their way : I had my way when I Was 
a young man : but, sir» when yeor cousin 
Marionetta — '* 

Scythrop now saw that the affair Iras 
growing serious. To have clapped his band 
upon his father's mouth, to have entreated 


him to be silent, would, in the first place, 
not Lave made him so ; and, in the second, 
would have shown a dread of being over- 
heard by somebody. His only resource, 
therefore, was to try to drown Mr. Glowry*s 
voice; and, having no other subject, he con- 
tinued his description of the ear, raising his 
voice continually as Mn dowry raised his. 

** When your cousin Marionetta,"^ said 
Mr. dowry, " whom you profess to love — 
whom you profess to love, sir — ^" 

** The internal canal of the ear,** said 
Scythrop, ** is partly bony and partly carti« 
laginous. This internal canal is—'' 

<* Is actually in the house, sir; and, when 
you are so shortly to be — as I expect — ^* 

** Closed at the further end by the ment" 
brana tyrnpani — ^" 

<^ Joined together in holy matrimony—** 


*^ Under which is carried a branch of the 
fifth pair of nerves—" 

'^ I say 9 sir, when you are. so shortly to 
be married to your cousin Marionetta — ^^ 

" The cavitas tympani — V 

A loud noise was heard behind the book** 
case, which, to this astonishment of Mr. 
dowry, opened in the middle, and the 
massy compartments, with all their weight 
of. books, receding from each other, in the 
manner of a theatrical scene, with a heavy 
rolling sound, (which Mr* dowry immedi- 
ately recognised to be the same which had 
excited his curiosity,) disclosed an interic»r 
apartment, in the entrance of which stood 
the beautiful Stella ; who, stepping forward, 
exclaimed, ^'Married! Is he going to be 
married ? The profligate !" 

*^ Really, madam," said Mr. Glowry, "I 


do not know what be is going to do, or 
what I am going to do, or what any one is 
going to do ; for all this is incomprehen- 

**I can explain it all," said Scythrop, 
** in a most satisfactory manner, if you will 
but have the goodness to leave us alone." : 

" Pray, sir, ta which act of the tragedy of 
the Great Mogul does this incident be- 

** I entreat you, my dear sir, leave us 

Stella threw herself into a chair, and burst 
into a tempest of tears. Scythrop sat 
down by her, and took her hand. She 
snatched her hand away, and turned her 
back upon him. He rose, sat down on the 
other side, and took her other hand. She 
snatched it away, and turned from him 
again. Scythrop continued entreating Mr. 



dowry to leave them alone ; but the old 
gentleman was obstinate, and would not 

*^ I suppose, after all," said Mr. Glowry, 
maliciously, ^^ it is only a pba^nomenon in 
acoustics, and this young lady is a refleo* 
tion of sound from concave surfaces.'* 

Some one tapped at the door: Mr. Glowry 
opened it, and Mr. Hilary entered. He 
had been seeking Mr. Glowry, and had 
traced him to Scythrop*s tower. He stood 
a few moments in silent surprise, and then 
addressed himself to Mr. Glowry for an 

'* The explanation," said Mr. Glowry, 
*' is very satisfactory. The Great Mogul 
has taken lodgings at Kensington, and the 
external part of the ear is a cartilaginous 

^* Mr. Glowry, that is no explanation." 



*' Mr. Hilary, it is all I know about the 

'•Sir, this pleasantry is very unseason* 
able. I perceive that my niece is sported 
with in a most unjustifiable manner ; and I 
shall see if she will be more successful in 
obtaining an intelligible aaswer." And he 
departed in search of Marionetta. 

Scythrop was now in a hopeful predica- 
ment. Mr. Hilary made a hue and cry in 
the Abbey, and summoned his wife and 
Marionetta to Scythrop*s apartment. The 
ladies, not knowing what was the matter, 
hastened in great consternation. Mr. Too- 
bad saw them sweeping along the corridor ; 
and, judging from their manner that the 
devil had manifested his wrath in some new 
shape, followed from pure curiosity. 

Scythrop, meanwhile., vainly endeavoured 
to get rid of Mr. Glowry, and to pacify 

K 2 


Stella. The latter attempted to escape from 
the tower, declaring she would leave the 
Abbey immediately, and he should never 
see her or hear of her more. Scythrop held 
her hand, and detained her by force, till 
Mr. Hilary re-appeared with Mrs, Hilary 
and Marionetta. Marionetta, seeing Scy- 
throp grasping the hand of a strange beauty, 
fainted away in the arms of her aunt. Scy- 
throp flew to her assistance ; and Stella, 
with redoubled anger, sprang towards the 
door, but was intercepted in her intended 
flight by being caught in the arms of Mr. 
Toobad, who exclaimed — " Celinda !'* 

" Papa!" said the young lady, disconso- 

*^ The devil is come among you,'* said 
Mr. Toobad : *' how came my daughter 

" Your daughter I" exclaimed Mr.Glowry. 


*^ Your daughter!'* exclaimed Scythrop, 
and Mr. and Mrs. Hilary. 

** Yes," said Mr. Toobad, " my daughter 

Marionetta opened her eyes, and fixed 
them on Celinda. Celinda, in return, fixed 
hers on Marionetta. They were at remote 
points of the apartment. Scythrop was equi- 
distant from both of them, central and mo- 
tionless, like Mahomet's coflin. 

" Mr. Glowry," said Mr. Toobad, "can 
you tell by what means my daughter came 
here ?" 

" I know no more," said Mr. dowry, 
« than the Great Mogul." 

" Mr. Scjrthrop," said Mr. Toobad, 
** how came my daughter here ?" 

<^ I did not know. Sir, that the lady was 
your daughter." 

<* But how came she here?" 



** By spontaneous locomotion/' said Scy- 
ihrop, sullenly. 

<* Celinda," said Mr. Toobad, " what 
does all this mean?'' 

*' I really do not know, Sir." 

" This is most unaccountable. When I 
told you in London that I had chosen a 
husband for you, you thought proper to rua 
away from him; and now, to all appear^ 
ance, you have run away to him.'* 

*^ How, Sir ! was that your choice ?'* 

«^ Precisely ; and, if he is yours too, we 
shall be both of a mind, for the first time in 
our lives.** 

*' He is not my choice. Sir. This lady 
has a prior claim : I renounce him.'* 

" And I renounce him," said Marionetta. 

Scy throp knew not what to do. He could 
not attempt to conciliate the one without 
irreparably offending the other; and he was 



SO fond of both, that the idea of depriving 
himself for ever of the society of either was 
intolerable to him : he, therefore, retreated 
into bis strong bold, mystery; maintained 
an impenetrable silence; and contented 
himself with stealing occasionally a depre* 
eating glance at each of the objects of his 
idolatry. Mr. Toobad and Mr. Hilary, in 
the mean time, were each insisting on an 
explanation from Mr. Glowry, who, they 
thought, had been playing a double game 
on this occasion. Mr. Glowry was vainly 
endeavouring to persuade them of his inno- 
cence in the whole transaction. Mrs. Hilary 
was endeavouring to mediate between her 
husband and brother. The Honorable Mr. 
Listless, the Reverend Mr. Larynx, Mr. 
Fioiiy^ Mr. Asterias, and Aquarius, were 
attracted by the tumult to the scene of 
action, and were appealed to severally and 



conjointly by the respective ' dispntants. 
Multitudinous questions and answers^ en 
masscy composed a charivari, to which the 
genius of Rossini alone could have given a 
suitable accompaniment; and which waa. 
only terminated by Mrs. Hilary and Mr. 
Toobad retreating with the captive damsels^ 
The whole party followed^ with the excep- 
tion of Scythrop, who threw himself into hia 
arm-chair, crossed his left foot over his 
right knee, placed the hollow of his left 
hand on the interior ancle of his left leg, 
rested his right elbow on the elbow of the 
chair, placed the ball of bis right thumb 
against his right temple, curved the fore- 
finger along the upper part of his fore- 
bead, rested the point of the middle 
finger on the bridge of his nose, and 
the points of the two others on the lower 
part of the palm, fixed his eyes intently 


on the veins in the back of his left hand^ 
and sat, in this position, hke the im- 
moveable Theseus, who, as is well known 
to many who have not been at college, and 
to some few who have, sedet, ietemumque 
sedebitj* We hope the admirers of the 
minutia in poetry and romance will appre- 
ciate this accurate description of a pensive 

* Sits, and will sit for ever. 




ScYTHROP VfSLS still in this position^ when 
Itaven entered to announce that dinner was 
on table. 

*^ I cannot come," said Scythrop. 

Raven sighed. ^* Something is the mat- 
ter," said Raven : " but man is bom to 

** Leave me," said Scythrop: "go, and 
croak elsewhere." 

" Thus it is," said Raven. ** Five-and- 
twenty years have I lived in Nightmare 
Abbey, and now all the reward of my aflFec« 
tion is — Go, and croak elsewhere. I have 
danced you on my knee, and fed you with 


** Good Raven," said Scytbrop, *< I en- 
treat you to leave me.'* 

" Shall I bring your dinner here ?" said 
Eaven. ** A boiled fowl and a glass of 
madeira are prescribed by the faculty in 
cases of low spirits. But you bad better 
join the party: it is very much reduced 

"Reduced! howP" 

'^ The Honourable Mr. Listless is gone. 
He declared that, what with family quarrels 
ip the mornings and ghosts at night, he 
could get neither sleep nor peace; and that 
the agitation was too much for his nerves : 
though Mr* Glowry assured him that the 
ghost was only poor Crow walking in his 
sleep, apd that the shroud and bloody tur- 
ban were a sheet and a red nightcap." 


K 6 



" The Reverend Mr. Larynx has been 
called off on duty, to marry or bury (I don't 
know which) some unfortunate person or 
persons at Claydyke: but man is bom to 

«< Is that all ?" 

*' No, Mr. Toobad is gone too^ and a 
strange lady with him.'* 


^^ Gone. And Mr. and Mrs. Hilary, and 
Miss O'CarroU : they are all gone. There 
is nobodv left but Mr. Asterias and his son. 
and they are going to-night." 

*^ Then I have lost them both." 

** Wo'n't you come to dinner ?" 

« No." 

** Shall I bring your dinner here J" 

'' Yes." 

" What will you have J" 


•* A pint of port and a pistol."* . . 

** A pistol!" 

** And a pint of port. I will make my 
exit like Werter. Go. Stay. Did Miss 
O'Carroll say any thing ?" 

i^No." '■ 

" Did' Miss Toobad say any thing ?" 

'« The strange lady ? No." 

'* Did either of them cry?" 

" No." 

" What did they do ?" 

** Nothing." 

* ' What did Mr. Toobad say ?" 

** He said, fifty times over, the devil was 
come among us." 

" And they are gone?" 

** Yes ; and the dinner is getting cold. 
There is a time for every thing under the 

I " ■■ ■ ■ ■ ■! - ■■■..I. — .1 .- . . I.I, 

* See the Sorrows of Werter: Letter 93. 


sun. YovL may as well dine firsts and 1>e 
miserable afterwards.'*' 

" True, Raven. . There is something in 
that* I will take your ad?ice: therefore^ 
bring me — ^** 

" The port and the pistol ?" 
^^No; the boiled fowl and madeira/' 
Scythrop had dined, and was sipping his 
madeira alone, immersed in melancholy 
musing, when Mr. Glowry entered, followed 
by Raven, who, having placed an additional 
glass and set a chair for Mr. Glowry, with- 
drew. Mr. Glowry sat down opposite 
Scythrop. After a pause, during which 
each filled and drank in silence, Mr. Glowry 
said, " So, sir, you have played your cards 
well. I proposed Miss Toobad to you: you 
refused her, Mr, Toobad proposed you to 
her : she refused you. You fell in love with 
Mariooetta^ and were going to poison your- 


self, because, from pure fatherly regard to 
your temporal interests, I withheld my con- 
sent. When, at length, I offered you my 
consent, you told me I was too preci* 
pitate. And, after all, I find you and Misa 
Toobad living together in the same tower, 
and behaving in every respect like two 
plighted lovers. Now, sir, if there be tfny 
rational solution of all this absurdity, I shall 
be very much obliged to you for a small 
glimmering of information.^' 

** The solution, sir, is of little moment ; 
but I will leave it in writing for your satis- 
faction. The crisis of my fate is come: 
the world is a stage, and my direction is 

' ^ Do not talk so, sir*; — do not talk so^ 
Scythrop. What wouM you have ?" 
" 1 would have my love." 
" And pray, sir, who is your love?*' 


** Celinda-^Marionetta— either— both." 
- *^ Both ! That may do very well in a 
German tragedy; and the Great Mogul 
might have found it very feasible in his 
lodgings at Kensington: but it will not do 
in Lincolnshire. Will you have Miss Too* 

<^ Yes>' 

** And renounce Marionetta?" 

« No." 

** But you must renounce one." 

" I cannot." 

" And you cannot have both. What is 
to be done ?" 

** I must shoot myself." 

** Do'n't talk so, Scythrop, Be rational^ 
my dear Scytbrop. Consider, and make a 
cool calm choice, and I will exert myself in 
your behalf." 

'* Why should I choose, sir ? Both have 




renounced me: I have no hope of ei- 

" Tell me, which you will have, and I 
will plead your cause irresistibly/' 

" Well, sir — ^I will have — no, sir, I cannot 
renounce either. I cannot choose either, 
i am doomed to be the victim of eternal 
disappointments ; and I have no resource 
but a pistol." 

** Scythrop — Scythrop; — if one of them 
should come to you — ^what then?" 

^< That, sir, might alter the case: but that 
cannot be." 

** It -can be, Scythrop: it will be : I pro- 
mise you it will be. Have but a little pa- 
tience — ^but a week's patience ; and it shall 

*^ A week, sir, is an age : but, to oblige 
you, as a last act of filial duty, I will live 
another week. It is now Thursday evening, 


twenty-five minutes past seven. At thr$ 
hour and minute, on Thursday next, love 
and fate shall smile ou me, or I will drink 
my last pint of port in this world." 

Mr. Glowry ordered his travelling chariot, 
and departed from the Abbey. 



The day after Mr. Glowry^s departure was 
one of incessant rain, and Scytbrop re. 
pented of the promise he had given. The 
next day was^ one of bright sunshine : he 
sat on the terrace, read a tragedy of So^ 
phocles, and was not sorry, when Raven 
announced dinner^ to find himself alive. 
On the third evening, the wind blew, 
and the rain beat, and the owl flapped 
against his windows ; and he put a new 
flint in his pistol. On the fourth day, 
the sun shone again ; and he locked the 
pistol up in a drawer, where he left it un- 
disturbed, till the morning of the eventful 
Thursday, when he ascended the turret 


Avith a telescope, and spied anxiously along 
the road that crossed the fens from Clay- 
dyke: but nothing appeared on it. He 
watched in this manner from ten A.M. till 
Raven summoned him to dinner at five; 
when he' stationed Crow at the telescope, 
and descended to his own funeral-feast. He 
left open the communications between the 
tower and turret, and called aloud, at in- 
tervals, to Crow — " Crow, Crow, is any 
thing coming ?'* Crow answered, " The 
wind blows, and the windmills turn, but I 
see nothing coming :'* and, at every answer, 
Scythrop found the necessity of raising bis 
spirits with a bumper. After dinner, he 
gave Raven his watch to set by the Abbey* 
dock. Raven brought it Scythrop placed 
it on the table, and Raven departed. Scy- 
throp called again to Crow ; and Crow, 
who bad fallen asleep, answered mechaui* 



cally, **I see nothing coming." Scythrop 
laid his pistol between his watch and his 
bottle. The hour-hand passed the VII.— 
the minute-hand moved on ; — it was within 
three minutes of the appointed time. Scy- 
throp called again to Crow : Crow answered 
as before. Scythrop rang the bell: Raven 

** Raven," said Scythrop, ** the clock is 
too fast.'* 

'^ No, indeed,*' said Raven, who knew 
nothing of Scythrop's intentions ; " if any 
thing, it is too slow." 

*^ Villain !" said Scythrop, pointing the 
pistol at him, " it is too fast." 

^' Yes — yes — too fast, I meant," said 
Raven, in manifest fear. 

*^ How much too fast ?" said Scythrop. 

*^ As much as you please," said Raven. 


** How much, I say?" said Scythrop, 
pointing the pistol again. 

'^ An hour, a full hour, sir," said the ter- 
rified butler. 

** Put back my watch," said Scythrop. 

Raven, with trembling hand, was putting 
back the watch, when the rattle of wheels 
was heard in the court, and Scythrop 
springing down the stairs by three steps 
together, was at the door in sufficient time 
to have handed either of the young ladies the carriage, if she had happened to 
be in it: but Mr. Glowry was aloAe. 

*' I rejoice to see you," said Mr. Glowry; 
'^ I was fearful of being too late, for I waited 
to the last moment in the hope of accom* 
plishing my promise: but all my endea^ 
vours have been vain, as these letters will 


Scytbrop impatiently broke the seals. 
The contents were these :— 

'^ Almost a stranger in England, I fled 
from parental tyranny, and the dread of an 
arbitrary marriage, to the protection of a 
stranger and a philosopher, whom I ex- 
pected to find something better than, or at 
least something different from, the rest of 
his worthless species. Could I, after what 
has occurred, have expected nothing more 
from you than the common-place imper^ 
tinence of sending your father to treat with 
me, and with mine, for me? I should be a 
little moved in your favor, if I could be- 
lieve you capable of carrying into effect 
the resolutions which your father says you 
have taken, in the event of my proving in- 
flexible: though I doubt not, you will exe^ 
cute them, as far as relates to the pint of 


wine, twice over, at least. I wish you much 
happiness with Miss O'CarrolI. I shall 
always cherish a grateful recollection of 
Nightmare Abbey, for having been the 
means of introducing me to a true tran- 
scendentalist ; and, though he is a little 
older than myself, which is all one in (tCT- 
many, I shall very soon have the pleasure 
of subscribing myseif 

Celinda Flosky." 

*' ITiope, my dear cousin, that you will 
not be angry with me, but that you will 
always think of me as a sincere friend, who 
will always feel interested in your welfare ; 
I am sure you love Miss.Toobad much 
better than me, and I wish you much hap- 
piness with her. Mr. Listless assures me 
that people do not kill themselves for love 
now«a«days, though it is still the fashion to 


talk about it. I shall,. in a very short time, 
change my name and situation, and shall 
always be happy to see you in Berkeley 
Square, when, to the unalterable designa** 
tion of your a£Eectionate cousin, I shall sub^ 
join the signature of 

. Marionetta Listless.'* 

Scythrop tore both the letters to atoms,, 
and railed in good set terms against the 
fickleness of women. 

" Calm yourself, my dear Scythrop,"' 
said Mr. Glowry ; ** there are yet maidens^ 
in England." 

" Very true, sir," said Scythrop. 

" And the next time," said Mr. Glowry, 
^* have but one string to your bow." 

*^ Very good advice, sir," said Scythrop. 

" And, besides," said Mr. Glowry, " the 



fatal time is past, for it is now almost 

" Then that villain, Raven," said Scy- 
throp, ** deceived me when he said that the 
clock was too fast : but, as you observe very 
justly, the time has gone by, and I have just 
reflected, that these repeated crosses in love 
qualify me to take a very advanced degree 
in misanthropy; and there is, therefore, 
good hope that I may make a figure in 
the world." 


Printed by Jas. Adiard and hoos, 
'Jti, Bartboiomew Close.